Kiminax Invicta
by Mvctar Avrelivs
Summary: History moves in cycles, so say the wise. But even so, where does it begin? One place to start may be in Nero's Rome of 60 A.D....FEMSLASH
1. Primus

Disclaimer: The television show Kim Possible, its characters and episodes all belong to Disney as well as any relevant production groups. In order to facilitate ease of reading, I have, in fine Hollywood tradition, taken several liberties with both dialogue and historical accuracy.

This one-shot fic is based on the Ronnicus as well as 'mysterious woman' characters detailed in the episode 'Rewriting History'. To my Blackfire/Raven fans, don't worry, I will keep writing them; I just noticed a drop in quality in the series, and I think I need a break to recharge. Besides, I have to kill this plot bunny.

**KIMINAX INVICTA**

**I**

"They'll never believe it," Dr. Henry Jones Jr. said as he handed his student's book back, its handwritten pages rustling more than audible in his office at the Jump City Museum.

"What do you mean, they wouldn't believe it?" the young archeologist asked incredulously from his seat across from Dr. Jones. "After all my research-"

"Your research don't mean squat, kid," Dr. Jones said evenly. "Hey, I'm just saying it as it is," he said, holding his arms up. "What you've got here's not the sort of thing that the archeological community in general's going to support, not without putting a lot of reputations on the line. They're gonna need a whole lot more exposure on this thing before they'll start doing the important stuff, like giving funding and press statements."

"You sound like you don't like them much," the young man remarked.

"My, my, does it show?" Dr. Jones asked with a not-quite-authentic expression of wounded innocence. "Look, what you've basically got here's a Catch-22."

"I can't publish until I get publicity, and I can't get publicity until I publish. I get it," the young man acknowledged bitterly.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the office for a while, and the young man was about to make his excuses and leave when the silver haired Dr. Jones asked, "Why don't you make me see you've got here?"

"Tell you, Dr. Jones?" the young man asked. "But my notes-"

"I don't want your notes, kid. I want you to make me see," Dr. Jones said.

The young man blinked, then began to tell a story…

(scene change)

"Just you wait 'till you get to Rome," the slave trader's guard said, a cruel smile on his face. "You'll soon learn what happens to women who don't know their place!"

The Brittanian he was speaking to turned her face away, not listening anymore. Ever since she kicked him between the legs for trying to 'take liberties', he had been careful to keep her in the wooden cage and taunt her, not that she cared.

Apparently other people did, though.

The guard soon found his face slammed against the wooden cage by a hand that had reached out from the girl next to the copper-haired girl. "Hey, guess what- you've made me curious," the hand's owner said, a pale skinned, dark haired woman.

"Help!" the guard gasped out.

"Don't even try it," the woman said as several other guards drew their weapons. "Last I heard, guards paid for damaged goods with either their purses… or their lives, whichever's cheaper," she said with a wicked smirk.

"True, but it is common for slaves to die while being transported," the senior guard said, "and we have many spears, and many accidents," he finished ominously.

The pale girl scowled at him for a moment, then sat back down. "I'll show him," she whispered, poison dripping in her tones.

"You're going to get yourself hurt if you do that," the redhead warned.

"What do you care?"

"I think you've just saved my life, and now I'm saving yours," she replied.

The pale girl snorted, admitting, "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks."

They rode on in silence, the guards keeping their distance; they knew that whatever their leader's remarks, their pay was dependent on the amount of money the slaves fetched at the market, and while the amount of slaves in the other wooden cages rolling behind the one occupied by the two women would fetch quite a sum, it was generally understood that the real prizes were the occupants of the first cage.

After a while, motivated by both the oppressing silence and her curiosity, the Brittanian shifted her place to sit next to her would be savior. "So, uh…"

"I'm from Moesia."

"Huh?"

"You know, Moesia? That place near Dacia? Never heard of it? Fine."

"How'd you know what I was going to ask?"

"Hello? My skin? It ain't exactly the sort of thing you'd see on a Roman," she said, spitting after the word 'Roman'. "Don't worry," she said, lying back, "you're not the first to ask. Name's Shiko, by the way. And you are?"

"Kiminax."

"Wait, don't tell me- Gaul, right?"

"What's Gaul?" This was technically, a lie. Kiminax's parents were from Gaul, but had settled down in Britannia…

"Never mind," Shiko said. "So, how'd you end up here?"

-the sound of metal on metal-

-screams of despair, shouts of victory-

-"Ave Suetonious! Roma Invicta! Ave! Ave! Ave!"-

"Hello? Hello? Hey, I asked you a question!"

"Sorry," Kiminax said, startled out of her reverie. "I was just- just remembering something."

"Heh, this sounds interesting. Tell me more!"

"I… I don't really want to talk about it."

"Don't want to talk about it? Sorry Kimi, but you started this," Shiko reminded her. "Now spill."

Kiminax sat in silence for a moment, and Shiko was about to throw her arms up in exasperation when Kiminax replied, "It was a Roman raid, all right? Romans came to my village and..." she trailed off.

"Oh, Kimi, I'm so sorry- not! Come on! One little Roman raid and you're all 'ooh, tragic past!'. But hey, if you put up as much of a fight against the Romans as you gave that guard-"

"I think you'd be surprised how much fight I can give," Kiminax warned.

"Ooh, kicking a slob between the legs when he's not paying attention? You're a scary girl," Shiko snorted. "Now me, I killed six Romans before my sword broke, and then I killed another four with my bare hands," she said with an air of smug superiority. "Ten in all. You? How many was that?"

"…none…"

"Ha!"

"But I tried!" Kiminax said angrily, as then memories flashed through her mind again-

-the feeling of being suffocated-

-the legionnaires marching across the bodies of the dead-

-the gleam of their armor as cruel as their leers-

"Look, forget I said anything, okay?" Kiminax said, sitting back down.

"No problem," Shiko said easily, joining Kiminax in silence as they proceeded on their way to Rome.

(scene change)

"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The joyful shouts of the Roman crowd in the Colosseum echoed within the gladiator's helmet. Although equipped with the weapons as well as the egg-shaped helmet and armor of a _secutor_, this gladiator was actually a _bestiarius_, trained to fight animals.

Not that he was very good at it. In fact, he was spectacular at being bad at it. Looking back, this fact was probably the only thing that saved his life.

Today, however, it was just humiliating.

"What are you waiting for, Gladiator?" the ringmaster said during gaps in both the audience's and his own laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Kill the creature! Show this savage beast the strength of your mighty arms!"

The gladiator raised his short sword, ready to give the stabbing blow, but when he saw the creature below him, he…

His blade wavered, and then the gladiator dropped to the ground, a broken man. He just couldn't do it. Let the crowd laugh. He couldn't kill the Romans who raided his village, after all. He got sick to his stomach when he had to cut trees, for the Gods' sakes!

So how could he expect himself to kill this naked molerat? This cute, widdle cweature…

Laughing, Emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, turned toward the man sitting next to him, a man whose skin had been given a bluish tinge due to the strange medicines a Greek quack had sold him in his youth. "My dear Dracus Maximus, you and your gladiatorial school have outdone yourselves this time!" the Emperor said, still laughing.

"I try, Caesar, I try," Dracus Maximus said, trying to keep the pride out of his voice, and failing terribly. "So, was this worth taking a break from your military campaigns?"

"Worth it?" Nero asked, his multiple chins jiggling in his mirth. "Of course he was worth it!" he said, pointing to the 'gladiator', who was now kneeling in the middle of the arena as the crowd jeered further.

"Look! Look!" the ringmaster said, also pointing at the bestiarius. "See how this brutal, bloodthirsty animal embraces him!" And indeed, this was what was happening; the naked molerat had run up to the gladiator and was now doing its best to hug him.

Still laughing, the ringmaster continued, "Let us all pray that the barbarians, who are equally savage, embrace Roman ideals as this creature embraces this Roman!" before breaking down again.

Suddenly, the crowd's laughter began to turn into revered silence, as the Emperor rose. "Fellow Romans, my countrymen, give me your ears! Let it not be said that we Romans are merciless, yet let it not be said that Rome is weak! This noble gladiator," there were stifled sniggers breaking out here and there in the crowd, "his indeed strong, but not yet strong enough to defeat such a powerful enemy!"

The crowd couldn't take it anymore, and Nero waited indulgently as he waited for their laughter to stop. "But see! How his murderous opponent has overcome its beastly nature to show him mercy! Truly, this is a strange, wond'rous day, where the animal shows more strength than a gladiator!"

His eyes took a more sinister cast as he continued, "So, I will grant both these combatants their lives, and they may both return to Dracus Maximus's school, where the animal may hopefully train the man!"

Carrying the naked molerat in his hands, the uproarious laughter of the crowd echoing once more in his helmet, Ronnicus bowed his head in shame and walked out of the arena.


	2. Secundus

Author's note: Additional disclaimer at the bottom.

**II**

Depending on who you talked to, Rome was either the city blessed by the Gods themselves, or the heart of all the evil imaginable by mortal minds. Whatever it was, they both agreed on one thing: Rome was by far the grandest city the world had ever, and surely would ever know. White stone glistening in the midday sun, people from all over the known world, pale Dacians rubbing shoulders with swarthy Egyptians and dark skinned Nubians trading with people of fair Roman stock, the meticulously kept armour of the Roman guards patrolling the city, the smells of foreign spices and sounds of languages that could not have possibly come from human tongues, all conspired to assail the senses of all those who had reason to doubt the stories.

Shiko wouldn't admit it, but she was impressed.

"So this is Imperial Rome," she said nonchalantly, leaning back on one of the iron bars of her wheeled cage. "It's… okay, I guess. Not bad. What do you think, Kimmie?" she asked her cellmate. "Kimmie? Hello, Terra to Kiminax? Hello?" she said, snapping her fingers in front of the red haired Gaul. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry," Kiminax apologized. "It's just that… well, memories."

"Your village again? Sheesh, get over it already! You're killing the mood."

For a moment, Kiminax was struck speechless. Then "Killing the mood?" she whispered softly.

"Yeah, killing the mood," Shiko smirked. "It's another way of saying 'spoiling the fun.'"

With surprising speed, Kiminax jumped, and before Shiko knew it, she was pinned against the cage bars. Startled, the two previously bored-out-their-minds guards outside their cage dropped their spears, while equally startled Roman citizens backed away quickly, fearing an escape.

Not that Kiminax noticed as she placed her hands around Shiko's throat. "Listen here," Kiminax said through her teeth, clenched with rage as tears ran down her cheeks, "I don't know about you, but I saw my village burned to the ground by Romans, and my parents and brothers sold into slavery when we- when we tried to fight back, and now we're both going to be sold as slaves to the same Romans who did that. Tell me, Shiko, how is this 'fun'?"

Suddenly, Shiko's hand seemingly came out of nowhere to push Kiminax down, and in a split second, their positions had been reversed. Still grinning, Shiko moved her own hands from Kiminax's throat to hold her arms down, and bent down to whisper in Kiminax's ear. "Well, I'm enjoying myself."

"That's enough you two, break it up," one guard said gruffly, his spear pointed menacingly between one of the cage bars.

"Don't worry, we're finished," Shiko said as she got off Kiminax. "And how did you like the show?" she asked the other guard. Being considerably younger than their other captor, he just blushed while trying to look fierce.

"Are you always like this?" Kiminax asked as she got up, trying to catch her breath.

"Yeah, pretty much. You always like that?"

"Like what?"

"You know, all 'boo hoo, my life is a mess, moan moan moan,'? Please, Kimmie, spare me. You think you're the only one who lost family?"

"…Sorry."

"Yeah, well, just so long as you don't go thinking you're some kinda special case, 'kay?" Shiko said, slightly mollified. "Sheesh, just because you miss your family you think we all gotta share the pain."

"Don't you miss your own family?" Kiminax asked, shocked at Shiko's apparent heartlessness.

"Pfft, who's there to miss? My parents died a long time before the Romans came, and when they did, they left me with not one, but four stupid half-wit brothers to take care of! To tell the truth, I was this close to cheering the Romans on when they came for us."

"But didn't you say you tried to fight back?"

"Well, duh, they were coming to get me too! Of course I fought back! My brothers on the other hand, they ran away and left me to face the Romans alone." She smiled bitterly, adding, "Looks like they weren't as stupid as I though they were."

She shook her head, as if doing so would dislodge the unpleasant memory, before turning to Kiminax. "And you? What's your story?"

"My story?"

"What, am I speaking Hebrew here? Yeah, your story! Come on, Kimmie," Shiko said, nudging Kiminax in the ribs gently, "I show you mine, you show me yours, that's how it goes."

Kiminax hesitated, but the feeling soon passed. Soon, she knew she would be sold to the highest Roman bidder, and if what she heard was true, Kiminax would be nothing more than a favoured pet at best. The last chance she had to exist as a person would be with the pale Amazon next to her.

That didn't make it any less painful.

"Well, you've heard of a place called Britannia, right?" Kiminax asked.

"Britannia? Yeah, it sounds kinda familiar; there was some rebellion there, right?" Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Wait, don't tell me you were part of that, were you?"

Kiminax sighed, her eyes far away. "We thought we were fighting for our freedom, at first. By the time we realized it wasn't, it was too late," she said.

"What are you talking about, Kimmie?"

Kiminax sighed again. There was no turning back from her memories now, the memories she had tried so hard to suppress. "It all started when the Romans attacked our village…"

(scene change)

…almost a year ago.

The sound of their armoured footsteps echoed through the valley where the village was. Confident in their superiority, the Romans were making no effort to hide their approach. It was a confidence that was well-founded, but despite their terror and inexperience, the village's defenders stood steadfast, ready to do their best to defend their homes from the advancing soldiers. Even now, some of them were making their defiance heard, shouting and clashing their weapons together.

Funnily enough, something like that was happening in the village behind them too.

"I said you two were too young to fight, and that's final!" one druid on horseback told his twin sons.

"Aww, but Dad-"

"Shut it, tweebs," his red-haired daughter said, as she loaded the last pack on her horse.

"Kiminax," her father chided. "I thought I told not to call you brothers that."

"Well, they are," Kiminax insisted.

"Kimmie, apologise."

Kiminax sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, drooping her shoulders, adding "tweebs," under her breath.

"Kiminax…" her father warned, before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be too harsh on her, dear husband," his wife said, "she's just under a lot of pressure."

"We all are," he answered curtly, before holding his wife to him, his voice growing gentler as he continued, "I just wish we didn't have to do this."

"None of us do," his wife said softly, echoing their own children's' thoughts as she returned the embrace. "None of us do."

(scene change)

"Wait a minute, you were running away? I thought you said you fought back," Shiko said.

"That was later," Kiminax replied. "Back then, we were just trying to survive."

"So your family basically left an entire village to fight the Romans. I admit, you guys got style."

"It wasn't like that!"

"Well, unless you have a real good explanation, that's what I'm seeing."

"My parents were both Druids," Kiminax said.

"So what?" Shiko asked, mentally noticing Kiminax's use of past tense. "What's that like, some kinda priest, or wizard? Big deal, we had them in Moesia too, like they were any good against the Romans. What makes your druids so special?"

"A Druid's not just a priest, Shiko," Kiminax explained, trying to keep her anger in check. "When the village chief wanted to know the future, he asked my parents. When the harvest wasn't going too well, people asked my parents to help. Whenever someone was in trouble, the Druids were always there for them. People looked up to the Druids, sometimes more than they looked up to their kings and chiefs."

"Let me guess: the local Roman head goon thought ruling you barbarians would be much easier if all the druids were riding the crucifix," Shiko said, and Kiminax nodded. "So what happened next?"

"Well-" Kiminax began, before the carts came to a sudden stop, and the cage doors opened.

"All right you lot! Out of the carts! Get out! Get out!" the senior guard shouted, as his guards herded their cargo out at spearpoint. His mouth widened in a humourless, even sinister grin. "Today's our lucky day, folks. Well, mine, at any rate," he said ominously, as his guards chained the prisoners' hands and feet together.

(scene change)

The Greek slave trader peeked out excitedly from behind the curtain, and grinned like an idiot when he saw the size of the crowd. This was his lucky day, thank Zeus! He checked a mirror which he always kept nearby, and rubbed extra animal fat into his hair, giving it what he thought was a sleek, distinguished look, but actually made him look even more like the greasy slimeball that he was- not that his customers cared either way or the other.

He took one more look at the rows of slaves behind him, and when he was sure everything was all right, he gave the order for the curtains to part, and stepped out to meet the crowd.

"My Roman friends with money to spend, lend me your purses!" he announced in a voice as oily as his hair, to general mirth. He'd spent hours practicing that line, and was glad to see it actually work. "I'm Mokta Orelios, and welcome to Honest Orelios's Incredible Emporium!" he said, to further audience applause. "Have I got some bargains for you today! The largest shipment _EVER_, of the finest slaves _EVER_, at the best prices _EVER_!"

"Why do I get the feeling that he sells used horses in his spare time?" Shiko asked Kiminax, as they stood in the rearmost row, Shiko's left hand chained to Kiminax's right.

"And after you're done here, why not check out my fine line of used horses?" Mokta asked.

"Doy," Shiko said, rolling her eyes, while Kiminax just smiled at her new friend's discomfort.

After his plea to increase his used chariot sales, the Greek began the slave auction in earnest, two guards taking turns to escort slaves one by one to the front of the stage. The slave trader began talking about each slave as if they were nothing more than livestock to him, and Kiminax realized with disgust that this was probably the case. The crowd was no better, jeering and heckling-

"What is it?" Kiminax hissed after Shiko elbowed her in the ribs a third time. A patrolling guard gave them a bored look, mostly out of curiosity, before continuing on.

Trying her best to look inconspicuous, Shiko edged herself a few inches closer to Kiminax, and whispered, "Finally, I got your attention- what was I supposed to do, step on your foot?"

"Shiko!"

"Fine, fine. Look, Kimmie, I think I know how to get us both out."

At first, Kiminax thought Shiko was joking, but when she saw the gleam in the Moesian's eyes…

Of course, what they were supposed to do after they escaped the slaver, where would they go, and other such reservations surfaced. But they were questions for another day- for now, they had only enough time to concern themselves with the slaver.

"Okay, so what do we do?" Kiminax smiled, unconsciously imitating the devil-may-care grin on Shiko's face.

For the first time since she was captured, Kiminax felt hope.

(scene change)

A big, goofy smile crept (or more accurately, slithered) across Mokta Orelios's face. This had been one of the best days of his life. Whatever he was paying his agents across the Empire, it obviously wasn't enough, considering the profit he was making toady from decidedly high-quality slaves.

Not that he'd even think of paying them extra, of course.

In fact, he thought, as his guards brought out the final two slaves, he might even consider cutting their wages- after all, forcing someone to sell such fine specimens of womanhood must be some sort of crime, right?

"As you can see, my most valued customers, I have saved the best for last," he announced in a tone what could best be described as a very fine whine, accompanied by a little cheese. There were just a few people left in the auction area, and they were to a man among the richest citizens of Rome. Also the dumbest, considering how many of them were frequent buyers of his used steeds.

Mokta mentally rubbed his hands in glee; these two would fetch him five- wait, considering the average intelligence of the remaining buyers, maybe even six thousand sesterces for the two of them! 'Most valued customers' indeedy!

As he continued his spiel, Shiko's eyes darted around, making sure the place was sparsely occupied. She'd never admit it, but one of the unspoken factors in the hurriedly thought up plan she and Kiminax had made was that they would only escape once there were as few people as possible who could be hurt.

That kind of feeling would have been bearable if not for Kiminax giving her that knowing look while they planned.

She whispered, "You ready, Kimmie?"

"Ready when you are," Kiminax confirmed.

"Good. On the count of three-"

"Mokta Orelios!" someone shouted.

"Great, what now?" she asked, as a group of Roman prefects entered, led by the shouter, one-

"Oh, it's you, my dear Dracus Maximus!" Mokta said, sweat running down his brow. "Whatever brings you here, Your Excellency?"

"You know full well what brings me here, Greek! Remember that horse you sold me?"

"Horse? Heheh, um, what horse?" Mokta asked, a look of terrified innocence on his face as prefects quickly moved to occupy the auction lot. What few customers there had been had quickly retreated, and his guards were all trying their best to run like Hades while not being noticed.

"_This_ horse," Dracus said, gesturing to what was behind him in a cart.

"Oh, that horse. Um, what's wrong with him?"

"He's dead," Dracus said flatly.

'No he's not! He's um… resting! Yeah, that's it! He's resting!" Mokta said in a voice of utter conviction.

"Look, my Athenian friend, I know a dead horse when I see one, and this horse is definitely dead."

Shiko wanted to run, but the presence of so many armed guards made running away an impossibility now.

Besides, something deep inside her soul told her that she was in the middle of something great and special, something immortal. By the look on Kiminax's face, she was feeling it too.

"No, no, no!" Mokta insisted. "He's not dead, he's just resting!"

"Resting? Resting you say? Well, let's see! Hello, Mr. Horse, hello!" Dracus shouted at the horse. "I've got some fresh hay for you! Wakey-WAKEY!" he shouted, kicking the cart.

"There, he moved!" Mokta shouted.

"No he didn't!"

"Yes he did! He did just now!"

"He didn't! That was just me pushing the cart!"

"No it wasn't! He's not dead! He feels fine! He feels happy! He's not dead!

"Oh yeah? Men, turn the cart over!"

An obviously stuffed horse tumbled out from the overturned cart. "See, I told you- he's dead!" Dracus said triumphantly.

"No he's not! He's, he's just stunned, that's all! He got stunned tumblin' out of the cart!"

"Look here, you! Yesterday, when you delivered this horse, you told me the reason he was so still was because he was tired after an extended neigh!"

"Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords, Your Excellency."

"…PINING FOR THE FJORDS! What kind of excuse is that- wait a minute, what's a fjord?" Dracus asked, bewildered.

"Dunno, it just seemed like the right thing to say," Mokta said, shrugging.

Dracus shook his head, trying to clear it of the déjà vu that had suddenly came upon him. "Look, you, this horse you sold me? He's dead!"

"But-"

"He's not pining for anything! He's passed on! He's no more! He's ceased to be! He's expired! He's gone to meet Hades! He's a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace! He's pushing up roses! His life is at an end! He's kicked the chamber pot! He's biting the dust! He's shuffled off his mortal coil and joined the choir invisibile! _Dicu, dicu,_ _equus mortum_! In short, this is an ex-horse!"

He walked up to the slaver, his blade drawn. "You think you're all that, Mokta? Well, you're not," he said menacingly, as he waved it menacingly in front of the (now trembling) Greek.

"I think she's all that," one prefect sniggered, from behind Shiko, where he had been looking at her… well, behind.

"Don't even start," someone threatened. Kiminax was surprised to find it was her.

"What's the matter, little girl?" he asked lecherously, his hands moving towards her rear, when-

"Gee, you really like doing that, don't you?" Shiko asked, as the prefect crumpled to the ground, whimpering as his eyes crossed and his face scrunched up with that special look of agony only a man can have. "Slight problem though, Princess."

"Oh yeah? What?" Kiminax asked, the look of righteous indignation on her face.

Shiko calmly gestured ahead of her, where all the other prefects, Dracus, and Mokta were staring at them, eyes wide open in disbelief.

"Oh. Sorry," Kiminax said quietly.

Oddly enough, Shiko didn't seem to mind. "Don't be," she said, a note of humour (and my be a little respect) creeping into her voice. "Just remember, you started it."

"Started what-"

"JUMP!"

And with that, all the underworld broke loose.

As they jumped down from the podium, the first prefect to reach them thrust his shortsword forward, a plan that backfired disastrously as the two escapees nimbly dodged his blow, seized his outstretched arm, and pulled him forward to run into their fists.

"That's gotta hurt," Shiko said to nobody in particular, when movement out of the corner of her eye-

She suddenly found herself in Kiminax's arms as a blade sliced into the air behind her, followed by the sound of it dropping as he would-be saviour gave the prefect a well-aimed kick in the arm. "Thanks, Kimmie," she said, as Kiminax drew her foot back.

"Don't mention it," Kiminax replied, hoping it didn't show-

"Aww, you're blushing, Kimmie."

Darn, it did.

Returning to the fray, the two ladies found that despite their apparent handicap, they proved surprisingly effective against the soldiers attacking them. In the relatively confined space of the slave auctioneer's courtyard, the Romans, already hampered by their heavy armour, found themselves being steadily beaten back. On the podium, the slaver's guards were making bets on who would win, and their money was on their former captives.

A guttural roar drew their attention, and they both jumped backwards as a hulking brute of a prefect brought his blade to bear in a gigantic horizontal slash, narrowly missing them by inches. Treating his sword like a cleaver, the prefect forced the two ladies into a corner, slash by massive slash, encouraged by the cheering guards behind him.

"Yu got no where to run," he sneered, and lunged forward-

"That's convenient," Kiminax said, seeing the sword embedded in the wall. Looking across at Shiko, she saw that her friend had the same triumphant grin on her face. "Ready?"

"Oh yeah."

They brought their arms downwards, and the chain linking them both together broke on the iron blade between them, then turned to the guard, whose body anguage could be compressed into 'oh dear'.

"Is I in trubbul now?" the big guard asked.

Kiminax and Shiko both nodded.

"Okay," he said quietly

In perfect unison, the two girls leapt up into the air and placed two perfectly placed kicks in his face.

"Mater," the guards behind him whimpered, as a very large shadow fell over them, growing darker, and darker, until-

THUMP.

Picking up swords from the fallen prefects, Kiminax and Shiko made to run- "Where do you think you're going?"

"What does it look like, blue boy?" Shiko sneered.

"See?" Dracus whined at Mokta. "Someone else's calling me blue, and it's all your fault!"

"It's not my fault! My brother always swore by that medicine," Mokta said.

"Swore by, or at?" Shiko asked, despite herself.

"…at."

"Thought so," she sneered. "Hey, Kimmie," she yelled to the redheaded Gaul standing at the entrance to the courtyard. "Kimmie, let's- Kimmie?" she asked, when she saw Kiminax remain still.

Then, she saw them.

"Any sudden moves, and you're Hun cheese!" Dracus cackled, as the two girls backed away from the bowmen. "You didn't think I came here alone, did you? See! I'm smart! L-U-N-A, that spells smart!"

"Yes indeed, Your Excellency, very smart indeed; in fact, one might go so far as to say intelligent," Mokta said, sweat dripping down his brow.

"What are you doing?" Shiko hissed.

"Don't speak to me that way!" he said, terror lending him authority. "Your Excellency, your men may them up! Hands and l-legs!"

"We just saved your life!" Kiminax shouted, as some of the remaining prefects (those who could still stand upright, anyway) fixed the chains originally intended for Mokta onto her and Shiko.

"Shut up! So how about it, my lord?"

"How about what?" Dracus asked.

"Surely a giant of intellect such as yourself must realize that, these two ladies, endowed with such great fighting skills among other things heheh would be perfect for your gladiatorial school!"

"You do have a point…"

"And that's why I'm willing to offer you these two fine ladies for the low, low price of my life and a 25 discount!"

"That sounds- wait, a 25 discount? Why can't I kill you right here and now and take them anyway?"

"Because there are none in Rome as fair, or as intelligent as you, Your Excellency?" Mokta said obsequiously.

Dracus appeared to consider this a while, then said, "90, and that's my final offer," the sword in his hand emphasizing the 'final'.

"Y-yes, of course! These two fine young ladies sold to you, Lord Maximus, for fiv- 50,000 sesterces!"

"Thank you **_FIFTY THOUSAND SESTERCES_**!"

"Why yes, Your Excellency, after all, surely a patron of the gladiatorial arts as illustrious as yourself can surely see that these ladies are worth ten times as much! Besides, that fifty thousand sesterces cover the costs for both ladies! Think of how much you have saved, and how much they would fetch in the arena! Your bargaining skills truly are to be feared amongst all those who deal in coin!" he said, his words regaining their oily slickness.

"I can't believe this," Kiminax said, her arms and legs in chains.

"I can," Shiko whispered to herself. If Kiminax heard her, she didn't show it.

"So how about it, eh?" Mokta asked.

When he saw the smile on Dracus's face, he knew that once again, he had himself a satisfied customer. Not too smart, but he wouldn't be in business if they were.

_Additional disclaimer: The Dead Parrot sketch is the property of Monty Python and all other respective copyright holders. All variants thereof are to be regarded as works of parody._


	3. Tertius

Author's Note: My apologies that this took so long. Rome: Total War does that to a person.

**III**

"Hey guys, if it isn't Ronnicus the Unstoppable," the sturdily built blond gladiator said to general mirth at his mess hall table in the gladiatorial school.

"Yo, my man Briccus! How are you, man?" Ronnicus said, placing his hand on Briccus's bare shoulder.

"Touch me again, and I'll cut that arm off."

"Er, okay, sure thing, man!" Ronnicus said, hurriedly taking his hand off from Briccus's shoulder, and nearly spilling the food in the bowl he held with the other. "Right… back… at you…? Okay, no talking to you, got it."

Scurrying off to find a free seat, Ron soon found himself a place to eat in peace. "Okay, so it's next to the latrines," he said to the molerat currently nestled inside a pouch tied to his waist, "but hey, hygiene isn't _that _big a deal, right? I mean, what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger, right?"

He proffered his food bowl to the mole rat. "Here, you want some?"

The molerat took a look at the lumpy brown goo steaming in the bowl, then looked inside the latrine-

"Oo-hoo, pass," it squeaked out, turning an interesting shade of green.

"You loss, little guy," Ronnicus said, digging in with gusto. "You know, I really need to give you a name-"

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any worse, Ronnicus, you start talking to animals."

"Oh, uh, hi, Bonita," Ronnicus said, blushing furiously and hoping the girl now approaching him wouldn't notice. "So uh, you coming to see me in the arena tomorrow?"

Bonita Messalina sniffed. "Yeah, sure," she said dismissively.

"Really?" Ronnicus asked, his smile threatening to do what other gladiators failed to do because hey were laughing too much: take off his head.

"Like, NO!" Bonita said, smirking wickedly. "Gods, you're an even bigger loser than Pyrrhus."

"Not like me, right?" Briccus asked.

"No, Briccus, not like you," she sighed dreamily as she wrapped herself around his arm.

"Man, what chance does a guy like me have with a girl like her?" Ronnicus asked quietly.

"None!" the molerat squeaked cheerfully.

"Not-helping!"

"Sorry."

Suddenly, a loud voice boomed across the hall. "All right you goons," it said in clipped tones, "listen up! The boss is personally bringing in a few new gladiators today, and you all know what that means!"

"Yes, Master Barcus," the assembled gladiators chorused unenthusiastically, not relishing the prospect of polishing their armor and weapons and making themselves presentable just so that some blue guy could cackle at them maniacally.

Besides, it meant taking a bath more than once a year.

A bath in which someone would inevitably drop the lathering sponge.

(scene change)

The first thing Kiminax and Shiko found themselves trying to get used to after they stepped off the cart was the glare. After the prisonlike darkness of the cart, the two women found themselves having to shield their eyes from the intense glare of the sun reflected in the white dust of the courtyard.

The second problem, though, wasn't so easily remedied.

"So, where are the gladiators?" a large, muscular middle-aged man asked the cart drover.

"They're the ones, Master Barcus," the drover said.

"Wait, what?" Master Barcus asked.

"Is there anything wrong, Master Barcus?" Kiminax asked, not wanting to get involved in any more trouble than she was in.

"Yeah, there's something wrong," Briccus said, before Barcus could interrupt, "they're _girls_."

"What?" Kiminax said incredulously.

"No, he just has a problem with girls being gladiators," Bonita sneered, "because as any _civilized_ human being knows, any woman worth anything won't stoop so low as to become a gladiator- not that you two barbarians'd know anything about civilization. Or being human, for that matter."

"That's enough you three!" Barcus said, before continuing patronizingly, "You might hurt the merchandise."

"Merchandise?" Kiminax said indignantly, while the cart drover (who had been at the slave market) decided that _A_) he should have chosen a safer occupation, and _β_) it wasn't too late to enlist in the Legions.

"Don't worry, Master Barcus," Briccus said, cracking his knuckles. "I'll try to play nice."

"For po' li'l ol' me? Aw, you shouldn't have," Shiko replied.

Briccus started by feinting a left hook, and Shiko did exactly as he had expected; moving to the right, his right. What he didn't expect was Shiko expertly twisting out of the way of his other fist and grabbing it mid-spin, nor did he expect her to take hold of his other arm as she finished.

Using the surprised gladiator's arms as leverage, Shiko flipped herself over his head, landed on her hands, and planted a mule kick squarely into his back, sending the burly gladiator crashing into the ground in front of Kiminax.

"Toldja," Shiko said, grinning as she leaned over the fallen gladiator. "So, you had enough yet, or are you all funned out?"

"Ask him," Briccus said, returning the grin.

"Shiko, look out!" Kiminax shouted as a shadow fell over the Moesian, but it was too late.

Shiko gasped as she suddenly found the life being crushed out of her. She looked up and saw a Nubian giant giving her a toothy grin as his bear hug slowly crushed the life out of Shiko, his dark brown skin glistening in the sunlight.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Briccus gloated, when he felt hands on his shoulders.

"That's why she's got me," Kiminax whispered in his ear, a moment before she flipped herself over the surprised gladiator and launched herself feet first towards the Nubian-

"You do know I could have handled him myself," Shiko said, rubbing some life back into her arms, as she got up from the wreckage of the fallen Nubian.

"You're welcome, Shiko," Kiminax grumbled.

"Hey, I'm just saying, you know," Shiko replied easily.

"Ahem."

"What?" Kiminax and Shiko asked in unison, before their faces fell at the sight before them.

In front of the two women were at least twenty other gladiators, some of them armed with the nonlethal wooden swords and staves used during practice sessions.

'Nonlethal' of course, being a very subjective term.

"Now you're gonna- hey! What'd you do that for?" one gladiator said angrily to his neighbour.

"Do what? I didn't do nuthin'!"

"You pinched my butt!"

"He did?" another gladiator asked.

"No I didn't!"

"Heh, I thought he'd have liked it!" another gladiator laughed.

"Shut up!" the first gladiator shouted, his fist flying toward the speaker, who promptly ducked.

"Ow! What'd you hit me for?" yet another gladiator said, his eye darkening.

"I was trying to hit him!"

"Oh yeah, like you was '_trying_' to deny that you liked him pinching your butt!"

"I did not pinch his butt!" And with a roaring battlecry, he launched himself at his accuser.

"Hey, break it up you- ow! Watch where you point that thing!" another burly gladiator said to the one next to him.

"What the underworld are you talking about?" the other gladiator asked indignantly.

"That wooden sword of yours! Watch it! Jupiter! It's bad enough you don't know how to use a real one-"

"Take that back!"

"Make me!"

All through the crowd, similar arguments started breaking out, and as the astonished girls watched, the gladiatorial crowd soon degenerated into a massive melee, a brawl in which the insults flew as easily as the fists.

"You hit like a girl!"

"My boot! Your gluteus! Let's talk!"

"WHAT did you call my momma?"

"You wanna know what my problem is? I can't decide whether to kick your butt or your face- they both look alike and do the same thing!"

"I seem to be having tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle." (Said in the speaker's native language; sometimes things get lost in the translation.)

Pretty soon, almost all the gladiators were lying on the ground, moaning and groaning, and the only ones standing were the first two speakers.

"You… pinched… don't deny…" the accuser said, tiredly throwing a halfhearted punch that missed completely.

"Did… not," the other gladiator said equally tiredly.

"Dude, he's right, you know," a voice piped up.

All those still standing turned to the speaker. "Rufus did it," Ronnicus said, holding up his little pink rodent.

"Rufus?" Master Barcus asked in dazed disbelief, as his eyes darted back and forth from the naked molerat and the fallen gladiators.

_Naked molerat._

_Eighteen fallen gladiators._

"We're gonna… get you," the first gladiator said, before toppling over.

_Naked molerat._

_Nineteen fallen gladiators._

"Yeah, gonna… get… you… good…" the second guy said, before he too keeled over.

_Naked molerat._

_Twenty gladiators, they all fall down…_

"Twenty one," Master Barcus said dreamily, before he too, fell over like the Colossus Of Rhodes.

For a few moments, there was silence. Then-

"Are you three aware," Bonita began quietly, before continuing, "of what you have JUST DONE?"

"No," Shiko said, "but if it makes you feel better, you can tell us."

"These were my family's most prized gladiators! They cost us a fortune!"

"Wait," Kiminax said, holding up her hands, "your family? I thought Dracus owned them."

"Tuh! As if! Like he could afford everything he's got on his salary!" Bonita said, before suddenly stopping herself.

"You were saying something?" Shiko asked.

"Nothing," Bonita snarled. "Anyway, just so you know, I'm going to make sure the three of you pay for what you've-"

"Oh please, Bonita, don't be so melodramatic," Dracus said, as he and his entourage entered the gates, their approach having gone unnoticed in the general hubbub of the fight.

"Melodramatic?" Bonita asked. "Look at what they've done! Just- look!"

"All I see is proof of fifty thousand sesterces well spent."

"Fifty…? Fifty… what? You IDIOT! My father will hear of this!" she shrieked

"I'm sure he will," Dracus said, seemingly without fear. "If you're finished, one of my men will gladly escort you to your mansion," he said, motioning to one of his riders.

If looks could kill, Dracus's remains would have fit in a miser's purse. As it was, Bonita turned to the three standing gladiators. "This isn't over," she said, before gesturing in no uncertain terms for the unlucky rider to get off his horse and make room for her, Dracus seemingly lost in the benevolent gaze he was giving the victors of the fight.

At least, until he was sure Bonita was out of earshot. "Do you three have any idea what you have _DONE_?" he asked frantically.

"Dude, she just told us," Ronnicus said.

"Don't play smart with me- what's your name again?"

"Uh, Ronnicus?"

"Whatever. Gah!" he shouted, burying his head in his hands for a moment. "Wait, wait, I think- I think I know how to handle this situation," he said. "Guards! Take these two," he said, gesturing to Kiminax and Ronnicus, "to the gladiatorial quarters! And this one," he said, pointing to Shiko, "take her to the chambermaid, and get her dressed in something nice. Something green, yes, that'd suit her nicely," he said lasciviously.

"Over my-" Kiminax said, before Shiko interrupted.

"Come on, Red, you don't think I can handle myself?"

"But-"

"I said I can handle myself, okay?" Shiko suddenly retorted, in far harsher tones than Kiminax would have ever expected.

"Excuse me? Yeah, I know we just met," Ronnicus said to Kiminax, "But I get the feeling she knows what she's talking about."

"Yeah, what- that guy said."

"My name's Ronnicus!"

"Whatever."

As she and Ronnicus were led away, Shiko in another, Kiminax knew that Bonita was right in more ways than she had thought.

This definitely wasn't over.

_In 226 BC, an earthquake leveled the Colossus Of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders Of The Ancient World. According to Pliny The Elder, "Few people could warp their arms around its thumb," and that "Each of its fingers was larger than most statues." (Ptolemy III of Egypt offered to rebuild it, but the Rhodians declined after an oracle warned them that it would displease Helios- ironically, the god the Colossus had been built to honour)._

_See kids? Learning CAN be fun!_


	4. Quartus

**IV**

Kiminax tossed and turned in her cot, what little candlelight there was flickering across the walls of her underground cell. It wasn't the ticks or the rough straw biting into her that kept her from sleep; she used to join the hunters of her tribe regularly, and was accustomed to sleeping in the rough.

The difference between those days and now being that this time, she found herself worrying about someone else.

Sure, she knew Shiko was more than capable of taking care of herself, and that-

"There are no fires, or people screaming," a voice optimistically said through the bars of an adjacent cell. "That's gotta count for something."

"That's right," Kiminax replied, before hesitating. "Er… Ronnicus, right?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out!"

"Oy, corny!" a small voice squeaked.

"Oh, what do you know about making introductions?" Ronnicus asked, annoyed. "You bit a guy in the _gluteus maximus_!"

"You two always like this?" a bemused Kiminax asked, smiling despite herself.

"Huh? Uh, no, I guess- well, sorta," Ronnicus said. "I only got this little guy a few days ago. His name's Rufus."

"I kinda gathered that," Kiminax said. "Thanks for the assist this afternoon, by the way."

"Hey, no problem, right Rufus?"

"Awww," Rufus said, the tone of his voice making it obvious that he was blushing.

"I was thanking you too, Ron- can I call you Ron?"

"Sure," Ronnicus said, before hesitating. "Uh… I can't remember your name, though, sorry."

"I don't think I mentioned it," Kiminax said. "I'm Kiminax," she said.

"And I'm- well, uh, I guess you know who I am," Ronnicus said.

"You're hard to forget, Ron," Kiminax said.

"Huh, for you, maybe," Ronnicus said bitterly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but people tend to forget my name a lot. Except for Bonita, and I don't know if that's a good thing."

"Bonita? That brown haired girl from this afternoon? Bad thing, trust me," Kiminax said sourly, a moment before something occurred to her. "Uh… Ron?"

"Yuh-huh?"

"How'd you know I was worried? You weren't watching me try to sleep, were you?"

"What? No!" Ronnicus said, before-

"I highly doubt it," a voice interrupted, this one coming from a hole in Kiminax's ceiling. "Like me, he was kept awake by how much noise you were making."

"Sorry."

"Your first day here?"

"Uh, yeah," Kiminax said, wondering who this new speaker was.

"First day jitters," the voice replied authoritatively, although judging by the voice, the speaker could not have been anything more than a child. "It happens to everybody. Don't sweat it."

"It's not first day jitters- at least, not all of it," Kiminax admitted.

"So, what is it then?"

"Uh, I don't want to interrupt," Ronnicus said, "but Kiminax-"

"Kim," Kiminax said. If she was going to call him Ron, she might as well extend the favor.

"Uh, _Kim_," Ronnicus said, grateful that the dim light hid just how much he was blushing, "I mean, Kim doesn't have to tell you anything, you know, keeping private business, well, private. No offense dude, but she doesn't know you so well."

"Don't worry Ron," Kiminax said, "I've come this far, might as well go on." Turning upwards to face the unseen speaker, she said, "Well, you see, there was this girl…"

"Girl? Shiko?" Ronnicus asked. "She's no girl!"

"I'll have to agree with Ronnicus here," the unseen speaker said, his tone becoming more eager. "I was in the kitchens when the fight started, and I saw everything. To tell the truth, she's pretty good, better than most of the male gladiators- but you didn't hear me say that."

"Not like I could," Kiminax said. "I don't know who your name."

"Oops," the speaker said. "Didn't Ronnicus say?'

"Dude, you were here the whole time," Ronnicus chided.

"Sorry 'bout that- I kinda spazz out sometimes. I'm Al-Wadjet. Nice to meet you, Kim."

"Nice to meet you," Kiminax said. "Al-Wadjet- it doesn't sound Roman."

"It isn't," Ronnicus said. "Wadjet's Egyptian."

"Used to be a priest in training," Al-Wadjet said, "but got thrown out, on account of the priests not too keen on having someone who actually used their heart to think. But enough about me," he said, "I thought you were going to tell us about that girl you came in with."

"Well-"

(scene change)

"-well, well," Dracus whistled, as he saw who had just entered the room clad in what he thought was a very fetching green stola and black palla ensemble.

"Stow it, Dracus," Shiko said, although her heart wasn't really in the insult; after all, a house this luxuriously furnished was bound to distract anybody. The decadence rivaled that of even the wealthiest Roman, maybe even Caesar himself.

So what was it doing in the possession of a mere General? Not only that, but the price of hiring all the craftsmen and getting all the materiel responsible for this luxury out here in the middle of nowhere had to cost quite a pretty sesterce.

Shiko sniffed. It was obvious that her master had rose, if not in rank, then definitely in wealth.

"I suppose you have a report for me?" Dracus asked, beckoning another slave to pour him a drink.

"Yeah duh, I've got a report for you," Shiko snapped, annoyed at her master's apparent nonchalance. "The Moesians-"

"Don't matter anymore," Dracus said, as lazily as before.

"What? What do you mean they don't matter?" Shiko asked, incredulous. "I spent all this time trying to pass myself off as a native, risk death by spying on my own people, not to mention getting captured as a slave- a slave, Dracus!" she said, "and being hauled back to Rome in chains- was all for nothing!"

"Yup," Dracus said happily, seemingly oblivious of the knife edge he was walking. "You see, Shiko, I've got a new plan-"

"Oh, so do I, Dracus," Shiko growled. "It involves you, me, and Pain," she said, the capital letter quite audible.

"Uh, Shiko, let's not be too hasty-"

"Hasty? Oh, I'm not going to be hasty," Shiko said, unholy relish in her voice. "In fact, I'll make sure to go _reeeal _slow on you."

"You haven't even heard my plan yet!" Dracus said, holding up his hands.

"And you haven't heard mine, but that's not going to stop me now, is it?"

"Is this how the Romans allow their slaves to treat them?" a haughty voice asked from the room's entrance. "Perhaps it would be best if I rethink our agreement, before allying myself with someone so weak," he added as he stepped into the room, revealing a bald man, his face heavy with makeup, an expensive linen robe upon him.

"What? No, no, my friend," Dracus said, his voice instantly changing from sheer terror to fawning ingratiation. "I was simply indulging my best slave- I wasn't going to let her actually hurt me. What can I say, I'm a softy at heart."

"Hmm, yes," the newcomer said, not sounding convinced. "In any case, no matter how trusted she is, I cannot have her overhear what we must discuss-"

"Yeah right," Shiko said, her hands on her hips. "What Dracus hears, I hear, or no go, yo."

"Heheh, er, what my _slave_," Dracus said meaningfully, "means to say is that since she _owes me her life_," another meaningful statement, while Shiko made 'bla, bla, bla' gestures with her hands and mouth, "she can be fully trusted with anything we are about to discuss tonight."

"Are you sure, Dracus?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

"You're betting both our lives on it, Dracus," the newcomer replied. It was obvious that he was still unconvinced, but also that he had no choice but to go along. "Does she have a name, or will 'slave' suffice?"

"I don't know," Shiko snapped back. "How about you, pal? What's your name, or should I call you-"

"His name's Amun-khefis, Shiko," Dracus said hurriedly, before Shiko could say another word, "and, despite his name, is not a priest of Amun, but a priest of Thoth."

"The head priest of Thoth, to be exact," Amun-khefis said, looking upon Shiko with distaste.

"Thoth? Isn't that the name of some monkey god, or something?"

"Baboon," Amun-khefis said, as the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "_He_ is the Egyptian god of wisdom."

Shiko folded her arms. "Gee, that explains a lot," she said _sotto voce_.

But not _sotto voce_ enough, apparently. "Dracus, did you bring me here to waste Egypt's time, money- my patience," he said, giving Shiko a pointed look, "or was there actually a purpose to this?"

"I assure you, O most holy one," Dracus said, as a visionary gleam came into his eye, "that is the last thing on my mind…"

(scene change)

"That's the last thing on my mind!" Kiminax said, horrified.

"Like you have a choice," Ronnicus said. "If the crowd wants you to kill, you kill. Or they'll have you killed."

"But- but-" Kiminax stuttered. "I can't just kill in cold blood!"

"In that case, your only chance's to put up a good show."

"What?" Kiminax asked, bewildered.

"Just like I said, you put on a good enough show, they'll let both of you live, otherwise…"

"Is that all human life is worth to Romans?" Kiminax asked, aghast. "Entertainment?"

"Hey, it's a living," Ronnicus said with forced ease.

"No it's not, and you know it, and so does Kim," Al-Wadjet said. "It's just that we have no choice."

"No choice?" Kiminax asked.

"Nope," Al-Wadjet said. "In case you haven't noticed, we're all slaves here, all bought from some slave market or other."

"That's right, slaves," Ronnicus said, an odd catch in his voice going unnoticed.

"That makes us what Romans call us the _damnatii_," Al-Wadjet continued bitterly. "You know what's the first thing they'll teach you tomorrow?"

"What?"

"The gladiator's oath, what they say to Caesar and the audience before the fight begins. It goes like this: 'We who are about to die salute you.' Cheerful, isn't it?"

"Hate it much?" Kiminax asked.

"You won't believe how many of my friends left this school, only to never come back," Al-Wadjet said sadly. "And every time that happens, I imagine them saying that right before… before…"

"Hey man, don't sweat it," Ronnicus said quietly. "I've lost friends too, you know."

"Hello, I'm right here!" Kiminax said.

"Sorry about that, Kim," Al-Wadjet said. There was a short lull in the conversation, before Al-Wadjet said, "You're worried about her, aren't you?"

Kiminax nodded. "Shouldn't I be? If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"Well… come to think about it, no and yes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, from what I've seen, she can definitely take care of herself. If Dracus tries anything funny with her, I'll bet you he'll be walking with a limp tomorrow. You definitely don't have to worry about Dracus doing anything nasty to her, I can guarantee that."

"And the 'yes' part?"

"See above. It doesn't take a genius to see she's definitely gladiator material one way or another, and if that's true, chances are you'll have to fight her sooner or later."

"I can't do that!" Kiminax said hotly, before continuing in a quieter tone, "She's my friend."

"Than as Ronnicus said: put up a good show," Al-Wadjet said. "It's the only hope for both of you."

(scene change)

"It's the only hope that Rome's got!" Dracus proclaimed, gesticulating wildly. "Can't you see that?"

"No, what you mean to say is that it's the only hope _you've_ got," Shiko snapped back. "It's crazy, Dracus! You're crazy!"

"Yes, exactly!" Dracus said, his eyes wild with ambition. "It's too crazy not to work!"

Amun-khefis had left the villa several hours earlier, having left an exulted Dracus Maximus and a stunned Shiko in his wake to argue through the early hours of dawn.

"It won't work!" Shiko said.

"It will! It has!" Dracus replied, equally hotly. "Come on, Shiko, can't you see it working?"

"That's the whole point! I can't! Sheesh, Dracus, whatever happened to marching your troops into the Senate and proclaiming yourself dictator for life?"

"One, that's so 45 BC, and two, it's not like I have an army willing to back me up!"

"Hmm, I wonder why? Maybe it has something to do with the legions you lost against those Judean rebels?"

"They caught me by surprise-"

"-in an open field-"

"-and I was outnumbered-"

"-almost four thousand legionnaires against three hundred rebels-"

"-and they had better training than the fools I was given!"

"-Roman legionnaires against two groups of rebels who, just days before, were fighting over who were the real freedom fighters: The Judean People's Front or the People's Front Of Judea."

The two of them stood staring each other eye to eye, when Dracus, being unable to take Shiko's emerald-hard stare anymore, said, "So, you in this, or out?"

"…ah, what the Hades, I'm in," she said. "Just to see what happens to you when you screw up."

"Good, then it's settled- I'll begin the first phase of the plan tomorrow. As for you…"

_Author's HIstorical Note: Ancient Egyptians believed that the heart, not the brain, was the centre of thought and emotion, a school of thought enforced by the thoughts of Aristotle brought by the Greek-born Hellenistic conquerors._


	5. Quintus

**V**

"Kim! Kim! Wake up, Kim!"

"Aw mom, just a little bit longer," Kiminax said, burying her head even further into her pillow.

"Now, now, Kiminax, you know as well as I do, it's your turn to help gather the herbs. Come on now, wake up, your father's waiting."

Kiminax yawned, her hands rubbing sand from her eyes as her mother fussed around the room, when a thought occurred to her. "Wait a minute, isn't it the tweebs' turn to help with the herbs?"

"Come on, Kiminax," her mother said indulgently, "you know how sick your brothers have been these past few days. You can't possibly expect them to go out into the forest in their condition."

Memories came flooding back into Kiminax's mind. Yeah, the tweebs were sick, she remembered that… "Sure mom, no problem," Kiminax said, pulling back her blanket and getting out of bed.

"Are you all right, Kimmie?" her mother said, concerned. "You don't look like you slept too well."

"What? Oh yeah; don't worry mom, I just had a bad dream, that's all."

Hmm? What was it about?"

Kiminax opened her mouth to reply, but-

_-Rome, the clink of the chain around her legs, the dust of combat-_

_-Shiko-_

-after a moment, shut it again. "Tell the truth, mom, I don't really remember."

"If you say so, Kiminax. Now go get dressed and help your father."

A few minutes later, Kiminax opened the door of her family's simple hut- into her oncoming father.

"Ohmigosh! Dad, I'm so, so sorry," she said, helping her father up.

"Oh, don't worry, Kiminax, these things happen all the time," her father replied, wiping away some blood from his nose as he got up. "So, Kim, you ready to help your father gather his herbs?"

"As always," Kiminax said confidently, slinging her bag.

"That's my girl," her father said affectionately. "Come on, Kim, let's go."

"Hold on, dad, one of my sandals came off," Kiminax said, bending down to put it back on. "There, done. Okay dad, let's-"

She gasped as she looked up. The sky- no, the whole world had turned blood-red, save for her parents and her brothers who stood before her, arms held out as if begging her for help while behind them, Roman soldiers drew their swords. Kim tried to go to their aid, but her legs seemed to have turned to stone, and she could only watch helplessly as the Romans brought their blades down-

"NO DON'T!" Kiminax screamed as she woke up.

For a moment, she thought she was dead- the whole world seemed to have slipped into darkness.

But as far as she knew, the lands of the dead didn't have someone asking "Kim, you okay?" when you reached them.

Then memories, both welcome and otherwise, flooded her tired mind. "Ron, that you?" she asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Dawn," Al-Wadjet said through the hole in Kiminax's ceiling.

"Al-Wadjet? You too?" Kiminax asked. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake all of you- wait, you sleep in the kitchen?"

"Having the servants sleep where they're supposed to, you know, serve means that Bonita's dad doesn't have to spend any of his precious money building us an actual place to sleep," Al-Wadjet said derisively.

Then, the relative silence was pierced by the sound of loud ringing. "Looks like we didn't miss that much sleep, Kim," Al-Wadjet said, as the doors at the end of the dungeon passageway opened.

(scene change)

"Get in line! Get in line!" the gladiator school's guards called out to the hastily assembling would-be gladiators. "Early comers in front! Early to late! One line!" they said, repeating the same words again and again.

Kiminax and Ronnicus soon found themselves near the front of the line, and patiently awaited the other gladiators to line up. Soon, all the gladiators had formed a single line, with the exception of-

"Hey loser, you're in my spot," Briccus said, pushing Ronnicus out of his place in line.

"Oi! Grrr!" Rufus growled.

"My sentiments exactly," Kiminax said indignantly. "He was here first!"

Briccus looked like he was going to back down, but in less than a second both pride and idiot bravado, which he had in far greater quantities than brain cells, took over. "Oh yeah, what're you going to do about it?"

"What, you've forgot what happened yesterday already?"

"Nope, I remember. I also remember that you had a friend with you, and guess what? She ain't here. But, I'm still here, my friends're still here, and all you've got's Ronnicus and his pet rat. So what're gonna do about it?" he sneered, standing- no, _towering_ right in front of Kiminax, so that the shadow the torches behind him cast completely engulfed Kiminax in darkness.

"This," Kiminax replied, and brought her knee upwards.

She was impressed by her results- she never seen eyes cross like that, nor was she aware that a man could squeak like that.

"Back of the line, got it," Briccus gasped a second later, as he lay on the ground, before dragging himself to the back with his arms, trying to use his lower body as little as possible.

"You know Kim," Ronnicus said, the other gladiators backing away reflexively as Kiminax turned, "I get the feeling that isn't the sort of thing Britannians teach their kids."

"It's not," Kiminax admitted. "I saw Shiko do it, though."

"Ah, Shiko," Ronnicus said, as understanding dawned.

"_Baaad_ influence," Rufus squeaked in agreement.

"Oh come on, she's not that bad- I think," Kiminax replied uncertainly.

"You… _think_?" Ronnicus asked. Clearly no uncertainty there.

A voice suddenly boomed across the (relatively) silent training ground. "Good morning, dirtbags!" Master Barcus shouted. "Did my assistants wake you from your beauty sleep? Gods knows the whole bunch of you need it! Well, too bad! This is a gladiator school- not that any of you seem to have figured that out so far! You-"

He raised an eyebrow. "Briccus? Get up, you! Why are you in the back of the line?"

"Woke up late, sir," Briccus said (or rather, wheezed), his legs shaking as he struggled to keep his balance.

Barcus took in the sight before him, then turned around. His eyes scanned the row of suddenly angelic gladiators before him. Then, they narrowed as they found their target.

"You! Britannian! Yeah, you! Come over here!"

Kiminax gulped, but it was with an air of defiance (albeit fearful defiance) that she walked over to Master Barcus. "Y-yes, Master Barcus?"

"Did you do this?" Barcus asked, as his face came uncomfortable close to Kiminax's, his finger pointing at the unsteady Briccus, who, oddly enough, looked a great deal more scared than Kiminax.

Kiminax gulped, but she decided since she was going to get it anyway, might as well tell the truth. "Y-yes, sir," she answered.

Barcus drew back, satisfied. "I may not look like the sharpest _pilum_ in the arsenal," he announced to the world in general, "but I know when someone's lying to me."

"I'm not lying-"

"I wasn't talking about you, Britannian," Barcus said, looking at the shamed gladiator behind him. "I also know," he continued, his disapproving gaze remaining fixed on Briccus, "when someone's hiding something from me- and you've just proved me right both times, in that order."

Briccus hung his head, too embarrassed for anything else.

"Bullying other gladiators so you'd get to bunk off the punishment for being late for roll call, _that _I can take. But getting your butt kicked by a girl, that- that's just _wrong_."

"But- but- but yesterday, she-" Briccus began, as he tried to use anything as an excuse, even the very same reason he had discounted from Kiminax just a few moments before.

"IF I recall correctly, Briccus- and I do- she had a friend with her yesterday, didn't she?"

"Yeah!" Briccus said, his natural sycophancy taking over his vocal cords before his brain could. "That's what I said- uh, I mean-"

"And who does she have with her now? On her side, I mean."

"Uhhh…"

"Gosh, Master Barcus!" Ronnicus exclaimed in amazement. Kiminax had barely been here a day, and she already showed an instinctive knowledge of what could happen as she tried to stop Ronnicus continuing, "Were you listening in or something? 'Cos I'd swear on a pile of Torahs that Briccus said-"

"Was I talking to you, _auctoratus_?"

"Uh, no?"

"Right." Master Barcus then turned back to Briccus. "So I guess this means you got your butt handed to you by a girl, ain't that right?" When the furiously blushing Briccus failed to answer, Master Barcus nodded, and started speaking in a reasonable tone (meaning that he was feeling anything but reasonable).

"Don't worry Briccus, it isn't your fault you're such a weenie- I just haven't been training you hard enough. In fact," he added, as a collective groan ran through the assembled gladiators in anticipation of what he was going to say next, "considering how manly all of you were yesterday, I don't think I have been training all of you hard enough." The torchlight glinting off Master Barcus's sneer made him look like a denizen of Hades as he continued, "So, today, all those three little break times a day I've been giving you out of the goodness of my heart? From now on, you are all only getting one! And bedtime? You can forget it! You sleep when I sleep, or if you keel over, got it?"

"Sir! Yes sir!" the gladiators responded with little choice. Some of them gave dirty looks at Kiminax and Ron-

"You, Britannian! Stay here! I'll be your personal trainer for today," Barcus called out to the retreating Kiminax.

"Oh man, he's really got it in for you," Ronnicus said sympathetically. "You going to be all right?"

"You're asking about me?" Kiminax asked, astonished. "You're the one going back to those guys," she said, indicating the disgruntled majority of the school.

"Ah, well, you get used to it," Ronnicus said dismissively. In his pocket, Rufus moaned.

" 'Used to it?'" Kiminax asked, echoing Rufus's sentiment.

"Britannian!" Barcus shouted again.

"You better go now, Kim. Barcus looks like he's at the 'angry voice' stage." He leaned closer, as imparting Imperial secrets. "You don't want him to get as far as 'angry face'. It's nasty."

"Ronnicus! Get to training NOW!"

"Aaaah! Angry face!" Ronnicus squeaked.

"Oo-hoo, really bad," Rufus agreed.

(scene change)

"That the best you can do?" Barcus asked in disgust as Kiminax took another clumsy swipe at him. "See Britannian, the thing about being a gladiator is: you're supposed to _fight_," he said, in the tone of someone explaining the blindingly obvious to a stupid child.

Through teeth grit together, Kiminax replied, "Fight. Got it, Master Barcus."

"I'm not sure about that, Britannian-"

"I have a name, you know," Kiminax quietly whispered under her breath.

But not quietly enough, apparently. "What's that you say, Britannian?"

"Oh, er, nothing, Master Barcus," Kiminax said.

"Oh, I heard you, Britannian," Master Barcus said. "All right then, I'll play along. What _is_ your name, Britannian? Come on, I haven't got all day. My show's on at," he consulted a wrist-mounted sundial, "my show's on at III."

"Show?" Kiminax asked, bewildered.

"The trainers' lounge has its own small theatre," Barcus said. His eyes misted over. "Today, Caesar's gonna tell Servillia that maybe…" he wiped a tear from his face, "that maybe they ought to see other people. It's so sad," he said hoarsely. Seeing the bewildered, wide-eyed look on Kiminax's face, he pulled himself together. "So, getting to the point, what's your name, Britannian?"

"…Kiminax."

"Kiminax, huh? Well, _Kiminax_," Barcus said, "you see, here's the thing: You've got a problem. You want to know what that problem is?"

_Do I have a choice?_ Kiminax thought.

"You can't swing a sword, you're completely useless with a shield, and it's obvious you have no idea how to fight properly! I know what you're thinking: That's three problems, not one. That's where you're wrong- your only problem is that you're a girl-"

The other gladiators looked on in surprise as Master Barcus skidded backwards, his shield raised just in time to block Kiminax's kick. They then looked back to Kiminax, breathing heavily with anger, vengeful anticipation written all over their faces, except for Ronnicus, who looked like he was going to be ill.

But nothing resembling the expected wrath of Olympus materialized. Instead, Master Barcus fixed Kiminax with a steely gaze, before raising his shield again and saying one word.

"Again."

Once more, clouds of dust flew as Barcus skidded back again.

"Again."

Kiminax took another kick-

-Barcus suddenly ducked under her leg and struck out with a wooden shortsword-

-to hit nothing but empty air. Kiminax was already backflipping through the air out of harm's way.

Not that her respite lasted long. As soon as she landed, she found herself under renewed assault from a suddenly silent Barcus, and considering his longer reach, it was all Kiminax could do to keep out of his range.

At least, that was what Barcus thought, right up to the moment he took another swing and Kiminax surprised him with the exact tactic he had used against her just a few minutes earlier- she ducked under his arm, and sprang upwards in a surprise attack.

Barcus raised his shield, but instead of the barehanded attack he was expecting, he instead saw Kiminax's fingers grip the wooden top edge of the shield, and proceeded to watch in shocked surprise as she lifted herself upwards over his head to land behind him, sweeping a leg out and tripping him.

Or at least, that was what Kiminax expected. What she hadn't expected was Master Barcus jumping over her leg and swinging his sword downwards towards her-

-and stopping just a few inches from her forehead.

"I guess," Barcus said slowly, just as slowly as the smile spreading across his face. "I guess somebody just earned herself a break."

(scene change)

"Eat up," Barcus said, pushing another bowl of gruel across the crude table (actually, a big, flat tree stump) towards Kiminax (who, like Barcus, was sitting on a small tree stump, the gladiator school's idea of a dining area). "When this break's done, I'll be training you twice as hard."

Kiminax almost choked on her gruel. The training she had received that morning was draconian- and he wanted to train her twice as hard now? Under the blazing afternoon sun? It wasn't that she wasn't sure she would be able to stand it. More to the point, she wasn't sure she would survive it. Think, Kiminax, think.

"Uh, isn't your show on? At III?" Kiminax asked, in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.

"Nope," Barcus said easily, dipping a large spoon into his own gruel. "You see, Kiminax, that was what we Romans call 'sarcasm'. Don't worry, you're a foreigner, I understand."

Kiminax bristled at this remark, but she took care not to show it.

Not that Master Barcus would have noticed anyway- at the moment, his eyes and mind were on something else. "Look at that," he sighed. "Ronnicus's rat's better at this than he is."

Kiminax looked at where he was pointing, and saw his point. While Ronnicus cowered behind a straw dummy, his practice opponent was leaping around in consternation as he tried to dislodge Rufus, who was at that moment scampering all over him, biting and clawing.

"Hey, at least he's winning," Kiminax said.

"Who? Ron or the rat? Wait, don't bother answering." Barcus sighed again. "I mean, sure, he's an _auctoratus_, but you'd think he'd be able to at least point a sword."

There was that word again. "What's an _auctoratus_?" Kiminax asked, her desire to plead Ronnicus's case tempered (for now) by curiosity.

"A free man who chooses to become a gladiator," Barcus said disgustedly. "Yeah, like any sane Roman of pure blood would want to become a gladiator. Putting your life on the line just to make a bunch of screaming harpies and sons-of-harpies happy is bad enough, but to let that same bunch decide whether you live or die? If you ask me, some people have been staring at the full moon a little too much."

"So, why do people become _auctoratus_es then?"

"Auctorati," Barcus corrected, as he leaned back and stretched. "Who knows? Maybe it's the fame, maybe it's the fortune."

"So, which is it for Ronnicus?"

"None of 'em." He got up. "Enough talking, Time to get back to the best part of the day." He looked at Kiminax, and smiled evilly. "At least for me."

Kiminax looked Barcus straight in the eye, determined not to show reluctance or fear. "Bring it on."

(scene change)

"Worst thing to say to the worst person to say it to, Kim," Al-Wadjet said, later that night.

"Thank you, didn't really need you to say it," Kiminax said as she lay in her bed, her body aching all over.

Yeah, about that, I, uh, I'm sorry, Kim," Ronnicus said from his cell.

"Sorry?" Kiminax asked, too tired to even turn to Ronnicus. "Sorry for what?"

"I should have warned you about his 'happy face'. I think I've heard stories about barbarian armies being beaten by his 'happy face'."

"Come on, Ron, those are just stories," Al-Wadjet said.

"I won't be too sure, Al-Wadjet," Kiminax joked ruefully as the aches started up again. "What about you, Ron? You all right?"

"Yeah, sure, why wouldn't I be? I mean, it wasn't as if I did a lot of fighting out there. Nope, that was all Rufus, ain't that right, buddy?"

"High five!" the little molerat said enthusiastically, holding up a small paw in response.

"Glad to hear it," Kiminax said, happy despite the pain she felt.

There was a comfortable silence between the three friends for a few minutes, when Kiminax asked the question that had been bugging her since that afternoon. "Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you choose to become a gladiator?"

There were a few more moments of silence, this time of the uncomfortable sort. Even though she could not see him, Kiminax also felt that Al-Wadjet's curiosity had been aroused.

They heard Ron sigh. "Any of you guys hear of a bunch of people called the Jews?"

"Jews?" Al-Wadjet asked. "Yeah, I've heard of them- got a city near Egypt, called Jerusalem, if I can remember correctly. Why?"

"Well, the Romans," Ronnicus began hesitantly. "They don't like the Jews much."

"In case you haven't noticed, Ron," Kiminax laughed. "The Romans don't like anyone who isn't them."

"Yeah, but they've really got it against us. I don't know why, maybe it's because we only have one God, and He ain't anything like the Roman gods."

"What do you mean?" Kiminax asked, lost in the theological debate.

She heard Al-Wadjet clearing his throat. "Well," he said, "when the Romans conquered Egypt, they sorta merged our gods with theirs, you know, like they said Ra and Jupiter were just different names for the same god, because they were both kings of the other gods and they did the same thing."

"But the Jewish God, He isn't anything like that?"

"Nope, and it drives the Romans crazy, 'cos there's no way to control the Jews with religion, like they did in Egypt," Al-Wadjet mused. "There's another bunch of people, the Christians, they've got one God too, and they're also getting the short end of the stick with the Romans."

"So, Ron, you're a Jew?" Kiminax asked.

"Well, my mom was. She was a Jewish slave, and after dad fell in love with her, he set her free and married her."

"But he was a Roman? He wasn't a Jew?"

"Not officially," Ronnicus admitted. "I mean, yeah, he was Jewish, but only in private. As long as the law said he was a Roman citizen, mom and me were safe. At least, that was what we thought. A few years back, dad lost a lot of _denarii_ on a bad business deal. It was looking real bad for us, 'cos we owed a lot of people money real soon, and nobody wanted to hire a Jewish woman- you know, 'cos it'd be _wrong_ to actually _pay_ a Jew."

"So you became an _auctoratus_," Kiminax said softly.

"Like I had a choice," Ronnicus replied, equally quietly.

Kiminax and Al-Wadjet stood silent for a moment, unsure of what to say next, when Ronnicus spoke again, repeating himself. "Like I had a choice," he said, a catch in his voice hinting of tears.

Then, the torches outside were put out, and the halls plunged into silent darkness.


	6. Sextus

_Author's note: (To Fan) The Colosseum was indeed built after Nero's time (in the year 80 AD, to be exact.) The 'Colosseum' in this fic is actually the Circus Maximus. However, I used the term 'Colosseum' simply because I thought the majority of my readers would be more familiar with that structure. Sorry for any inconvenience._

**VI**

That very same night, a small, rickety cart rattled and wobbled as it travelled on the road towards Rome. However, any bandit trying to rob this cart would soon find that, despite its decrepit appearance, the two men driving the cart were equipped with more than new enough weapons, and had more than enough skill to fend off any would-be robbers.

Another factor that might have helped the cart from being attacked by bandits was professional courtesy.

"This, has been, the most boring job, _ever_," Bonifacius said slowly to his partner-in-crime-and-in-marriage (and he would like to argue that there wasn't any difference).

"Boring's a good thing, darling," his wife Kleita replied, looking up at the stars, "when you think about it. I mean, we go deliver these crates, get rich-" She laughed.

"What's so funny?" Bonifacius asked. "Come on, tell me."

"No, no, it's not very funny."

"Come on, tell me."

"Well," Kleita replied, "it just occurred to me that the guy, who's paying us so much it'd turn Croesus green, has skin as blue as Neptune's."

Silence. "Told you it wasn't very funny," she said.

"See? This is where boring gets you," Bonifacius quipped.

"Well, _on the bright side_," Kleita replied with easy irony, "we don't have to worry about the Roman law-"

"_You've heard of the barbarian Arminius_," a voice called out in the darkness, "_Of how he defeated Varus!" (1)_

_But if you still desire bold a story well told,_

_Let me tell you of Kleita and Bonifacius! _

_Now Bonifacius and Kleita are a bandit gang,_

_I'm sure you all have heard of them,_

_They rob and they steal,_

_And should anyone squeal,_

_They'll soon cling to Charon's hem_

_But tonight, they'll go down together_

_Right after this poem atrocious,_

_To their mothers- no grief,_

_To Rome, a relief,_

_Yea, the end of Kleita and Bonifacius!" (2)_

"Who said that?" Bonifacius called out angrily into the moonlight, his sword drawn, a torch in his other hand. "Show yourself!"

"Or at least shut up!" Kleita added. Like her husband, she too held a blade in one hand and a lighted torch in the other. "Who helped you write that stuff? A tone-deaf muse?"

"Let's just say the Furies gave me some creative input," Shiko said, as she stepped out from behind a tree into their torchlight.

"You!" Kleita snarled. "You're Dracus's pet, aren't you?"

"…pet?" Shiko's eyes narrowed. "Oh, now you're gonna get it."

"Yeah? In case you haven't noticed, there's one of you, and two of us," Kleita retorted.

"Okay," Shiko replied easily. After a moment, she continued, "What- am I supposed to be scared or something?"

"Let's go with the 'oh something'," Bonifacius said, leaping at Shiko, swinging his sword and his torch in unison.

"Hey, wait for me!" his wife laughed, as she quickly joined in.

Neither of them noticed Shiko's grin, even in the torchlight.

With a ferocious roar, Bonifacius stabbed forward, his sword cleanly slicing through Shiko's chest- or so he thought. "Whoops! Missed," Shiko said. "Whoops! Missed again!" Shiko laughed, as Bonifacius struck ineffective blow after ineffective blow.

He took another strike, and in the split second before the pain, Bonifacius saw that his sword had stuck in the tree-

"He always like this?" Shiko asked, as Bonifacius slumped over. "Gets all pumped up for a few seconds before falling asleep?" she said, smirking evilly.

"At least I have a man!"

"Oooh, good one, what's next- you're iron and I'm glue? Yeah, _reaaal_ clever. Lemme guess- you're the brains of this outfit?"

Rendered near-incoherent with rage, Kleita rushed forward, Shiko standing her ground, that insolent smirk still on her face. As soon as she closed, she swung her sword-

-only to have her arm caught by a quickly-dodging Shiko, who immediately turned around and threw Kleita into the ground. "What, that's it?" she said, when Kleita didn't get up. "They just don't make bad guys the way they used to," she sighed, before grinning again. "Or do now," she said with a self-satisfied smile. "Okay boys, you can come out now," she said, before whistling.

After a few minutes a group of horsemen came riding out of the darkness, each of them wearing uniforms that identified them as Dracus's personal guard. "Are they…?" one of them began. Behind him, another group of soldiers brought along a much better-looking cart, its apparent cargo barrels of wine.

"You think I'd've tied them up if they were?" Shiko retorted, pointing at the two figures gagged and bound behind her. "They're both still alive, that reward's still yours."

Shiko then got onto the cart. "Remember," she warned, "nobody talks about this! You spent a little spare time bounty hunting, found these two, you think they'd been robbed by someone else, blah blah blah, got it?"

The guards nodded fearfully- Shiko was a slave only in name, and they knew that very well. Some of them still had scars from the last time they forgot that.

"Good," Shiko said. "You got the other cart ready? Good. Help me load this into it," she said, gesturing to the cloth-covered stuff on the bandits' cart. "Don't worry, about them," she said, pointing again to Kleita and Bonifacius, "they're not going anywhere."

"That's right, you scum!" Barcus yelled, looking at the gladiators practicing. "You're not going anywhere until I say so! You're not going to have lunch until I say so! You're not going to the privy until I say so! And do you know when I'll say so? I'll say so when YOU-GET-IT-RIGHT!" he yelled into a hapless gladiator's ear.

Watching as the trainer proceeded to berate the hapless gladiator, Ronnicus brought his wooden sword down towards his opponent. "Man, what's gotten into him?" he asked.

"Well, he did miss a wooden dummy," Kiminax replied, parrying his blow. "Ron, focus."

"Sorry Kim."

"And don't slash- stab," she said. "Your sword isn't made for slashing."

"I know that, I know that," Ronnicus said.

"Yeah, right," Rufus squeaked.

"Not helping, Rufus!" Ronnicus said, before turning back to Kiminax. "You're really settling in here, aren't you?"

"What?" Kiminax asked.

"Well, you're really getting the hang of this gladiator thing," Ronnicus said, oblivious to Rufus's frantic gestures and "No, No!"s. "I mean, I've been hanging around here longer than you, but you've really made yourself at home here! Plus, you got mad skillz, yo! Kim?" he asked, seeing the dejected look on her face. "Kim?"

"You two! Ronnicus! Kiminax! Why aren't you training?" Barcus shouted as he walked over to them. "Is there… a problem?" he whispered threateningly.

"What? Sir, no sir!" Ronnicus babbled. "No problem sir! Right, Kim?"

"No sir, no problem," Kiminax said, woodenly. "It's just… just a little hot, sir."

"Little hot?" Ronnicus asked, bewildered. "Kim, you're barely sweating-"

"Go sit in the shade, Gaul," Barcus said. Though his tones were harsh, even cruel, there was a small note of tenderness in it, so subtle one would not hear it if one weren't listening for it. "I'll take charge of this Jew."

"Eep." It's not known whether it was Ronnicus or Rufus who squeaked louder upon seeing Barcus's 'happy face'.

Kiminax walked off, taking her place on the tree stump seat- the same tree stump seat she had been sitting on each break she had for the past week.

One week. One week, and she already knew the difference between a _Secutus_ and a _Retarius_, between a _gladius_ and a _manica_. All with the same inquisitive, intelligent spirit she had used to identify herbs and the like back home.

_You've really made yourself at home here!_

"I have, haven't I? I don't want to, but I have," Kiminax whispered. She remembered Britannia, with its lush rolling hills and vast forests, not at all like the flat, unnatural farmland of Rome. She remembered her village, simple, one or two roomed houses made of wood, of being lulled gently into sleep by their comfortable creaking, in stark contrast to the silent, foreboding Roman buildings.

She looked around at the gladiators training, sweat and dirt caking on their skins, and Kim felt she was noticing for the first time the same grime upon her, and she felt a terrible, sinking feeling that a lifetime of this was all that awaited her-

"You know, you look like you could use a friend."

Kiminax turned upwards to look at the speaker. "Oh, hello," she said. "Sorry, didn't notice you there."

"Girl, I doubt if you'd have noticed if the gods themselves came down and set themselves on fire in front of you," the newcomer replied. A tall, dark skinned girl, she placed a full bowl down in front of Kiminax. "Compliments of the chef."

"Al-Wadjet?" Kiminax asked, taking the bowl, and being surprised at the contents. This actually looked like something edible! She couldn't tell what it was, but this stuff actually looked appetizing!

"Yep, he saw you looking so sad, pinin' away like there was no tomorrow, he thought you needed some cheering up. Tell the truth, girl, I thought so too." She held out her hand. "I'm Monik-tah, but you can call me Monik."

"Monik," Kiminax said, taking her hand. "Lemme guess, you're not a Roman?"

"Egyptian, just like your pal Al-Wadjet. What tipped you off?" Monik asked with good-natured sarcasm. "My skin? My name? My personality? The fact that I actually _got _a personality?"

"Hmm, let's see," Kiminax said, her dark mood starting to lift, "How about all of the above?"

Monik laughed. "That's good, Kim! Real good!"

"Thanks- wait, how'd you know my name?"

"Who hasn't? Kiminax, mysterious new girl from Gaul, beats up trained gladiators on her first day, and in less than a week, becomes better than- what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kiminax sighed, the depression starting to creep back in.

Monik placed a friendly hand on Kiminax's shoulder. "Lemme guess, you're homesick, aintcha?"

"What? How do you know _that_?" Kiminax asked. It appeared all those idle rumours about all Egyptians being magical were true after all.

"Kim, I ain't just a pretty face, you know? I hear things, I ask people, I-"

She was interrupted by the sound of galloping hooves. Two horses, black a night entered the gladiatorial school, their riders two muscular men in completely black armour. Their all-black Greek-style helmets were constructed in such a way that nothing could be seen under them, not even the wearer's eyes.

Their horses pulled up to a stop simultaneously, and the two riders dismounted with the same mechanical precision.

"You! You are trainer Barcus, are you not?" one of them asked Barcus in a deep, gravely voice. The creepy effect was only amplified by their voices echoing due to their helmets' acoustics.

"Y-yes," Barcus said, thoroughly intimidated by these two strange men. "What can I do for you guys?

The two men looked at each other, then back to Barcus. "I am Arcanus Suetonius, and this is Arcanus Suetonius. We're from the Arcani," (3) he said, pronouncing it AR-khan-eye. "And this isn't a matter of what you can do for us, it's what we can do for you."

"We can do that, because we're _government_," the other Arcanus Suetonius said. "And do you know what we can do for you?"

"Um- what?"

"We can make your life a whole lot easier if you answer a few questions for us truthfully."

"We can do that, because we're _government_," the other Arcanus Suetonius said. "Now, are you aware that a small cart was robbed last night, on the road next to your this gladiator school?"

"In fact, it was robbed just a few hundred feet down the road- any sentries you had posted must have seen it."

"Uh… you guys saw anything last night?" Barcus called to a group of guards.

"Well, um, we did see something out there…" one of them replied.

"_Oh really?_" Arcanus Suetonius asked.

"Y-yeah, really," the guard replied, regretting he spoke up at all.

"No way," Arcanus Suetonius replied cryptically. "What else did you see, Mr…?"

"Strigidus, sir. And I didn't see nothing much else, sir, it was so dark."

"Pity," Arcanus Suetonius said.

"Pity," Arcanus Suetonius agreed.

"Uh, if you guys don't mind me asking, what's the problem?" Master Barcus asked as he came up behind them.

The two Arcani looked at Barcus silently, for perhaps a few more second than was strictly necessary, before replying. "Two people were robbed there, last night," Arcanus Suetonius said.

"Two very bad people," Arcanus Suetonius added. "The robbers Bonifacius and Kleita."

"So... what's the problem, exactly?" Ronnicus asked. "Isn't that a good thing? You know, robbers get robbed, other robbers get rich, then other robbers rob them and get richer…" He trailed off. "My head hurts!" he exclaimed suddenly.

"There, there," Rufus said.

"We're not concerned about the robbers," Arcanus Suetonius said.

"We're concerned about their cargo," Arcanus Suetonius said. "It's classified," he told Ronnicus.

"What?" Ronnicus asked. "I didn't say anything!"

"But you were, weren't you?"

"Um, yeah. How'd you guys know?"

"We're _government_," Arcanus Suetonius said.

"We know everything," Arcan Suetonius replied.

"Oh- wait, wouldn't that mean you should know where the stuff you're looking for is?"

The two Arcani turned to each other, then turned back to Ronnicus. "No," they replied in unison.

"Oh… okay," Ronnicus replied, looking for somewhere to hide.

"Master Barcus," Arcanus Suetonius said, turning to the trainer, "if you don't mid, we'll be leaving now-"

"No, nope, don't mind at all!" Barcus said earnestly.

"-and if you or any of your staff suddenly recall anything suspicious, please, don't hesitate to send this pigeon," he said, handing over a pigeon marked (CCII)CCCXXIV-MMM.

"And now," Arcanus Suetonius said as he and his partner got on their horses (which didn't seem to have moved at all), "If you'll excuse us…"

As she watched the two Arcani gallop away, Kiminax felt that old, familiar spark of curiosity light up within her. But in addition to that was a strange instinct, something telling her that something about this just wasn't right.

Looks like she'd be making plans for tonight…

_(1)Historical note: Arminius, king of a Germanic tribe known as the Cherusci, led an alliance of Germanic barbarian tribes against the Roman forces seeking to expand into their territory, and in 9 AD, tricked and then ambushed Governor Quinctillius Varus during the Battle of Teutoberg Forest, annihilating a Roman army of more than twenty-eight thousand men. It is said (according to the historian Suetonius) that when Emperor Augustus heard of this, his hair turned white as he exclaimed, "Varus, give me back my legions!" Such was the defeat, Rome would never again attempt seriously expanding beyond the river Rhine's right bank._

_However, Arminius never really got to enjoy the fruits of his victory. Not only did Arminius find the alliance disintegrating due to internal politics, another popular leader, Marbod of the Marcomanni attempted to take over. Arminius was also very unpopular with his wife's pro-Roman family. In 21 AD, they poisoned the thirty seven-year-old barbarian king._

_(2)If there are any movie buffs out there, you'll know why I couldn't resist putting this (adapted and highly abridged) song in._

_(3) The Arcani were something like the Roman version of the CIA- they were secret agents and infiltrators, spies and assassins. However, unlike CIA career agents, the Arcani were not actually government agents, but often mercenaries hiring out their services to the highest bidder- in most cases, Rome. I'm taking substantial liberties with the Arcani here, and I would not want anybody to think the depiction above is a realistic one._


	7. Septimus

**VII**

The next night, near a small, unremarkable hut on the outskirts of Rome, a hooded woman hid in the shadow of a nearby copse of trees until she saw what she had been waiting for: a rider in resplendent gilded armor trotting his horse up the road.

Shiko sighed. Apparently Dracus wouldn't know the meaning of 'discreet' even if she hit him over the head with the Encyclopedia Imperia.

Actually, considering how hard Shiko could hit, it was doubtful if Dracus would end up knowing anything at all, apart from pain, lots and lots of pain.

Shiko wished she had a copy of the Encyclopedia Imperia.

"What's that you said, Shiko?" Dracus asked, as he dismounted.

"I said," Shiko replied through gritted teeth, "it isn't a covert operation if you go out in full dress armor!"

"Now, now, Shiko," Dracus said grandly, "you know I'm too respectable a General to be spied upon."

"Too respectable, or too harmless?"

"Very funny, Shiko," Dracus grumbled, opening the hut's door. "You should be on-"

He gasped as he looked inside the hut. "Is that- is-?"

"Yeah, why?"

Dracus was in love. The fact that the building was shrouded in torchlight only added to the romantic mood.

Those curves, that potential- everything inside and outside just stole his heart, stopped his breath.

His hands longed to touch, his arms longed wrap themselves around his love… his mind and soul weren't his anymore.

He had never felt this way before- it was so… there was no other word for it. He had never ever ever felt so _nice_.

"Sheesh, get a grip on yourself why don't you?"

"I can't help it, Shiko," Dracus said, his arms already in a tight embrace. "I just can't help it."

"…It's a bunch of mirrors arranged on a wooden circle, Dracus, (1)" Shiko said incredulously, before breaking into a smirk. "But you know what? I think this explains a lot about your social life."

"Hardy-har-har, Shiko," Dracus grumbled. "Laugh all you want, but this device here is all I'll need to fulfill my plans of known world domination! AAAHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAA!" (2)

"Yeesh, where'd you get that laugh from?"

"You like it? I made it up myself!" Dracus said proudly.

"I know- it's _that_ obvious," Shiko said dismissively, Dracus wincing in response.

"Oh yeah? Well, uh, one day, Shiko, one day, all the greatest people in the world- meaning, people like me- will laugh like that! You'll see!"

"Trust me, it'll never catch on."

Dracus sighed. "Must you naysay everything I do, Shiko?" he asked.

"Now that you mention it, yeah, I think I must."

"Why, Shiko, why?" Dracus asked plaintively.

"Because everything you say is made of 'stupid' and 'crazy'," Shiko smiled, not a trace of shame evident as she counted them off on her hand.

"You know Shiko, it's remarks like that which make me wonder why I keep you around."

"Well, maybe it's because I'm beautiful, witty, talented-"

"And you say everything I say is made of stupid and crazy," Dracus said under his voice.

"I heard that!"

Grumbling, Dracus went back to looking at the device Shiko had stolen for him the night before. He wasn't actually telling the whole truth when he said that the device was all he needed. He also needed money, lots of it, not to mention enough political power to shut up anyone who wasn't supposed to know about this- and he needed them both very quickly-

His eyes opened widely as an idea occurred to him. And unlike his other ideas, no matter which how this one turned out, he'd still end up winning…

"Oh Shiko," he asked sweetly.

_Uh oh._ "What is it now?" she sighed.

(scene change)

Flickering torchlight illuminated the halls of the dungeon- except tonight, there wasn't any guard to block it out from time to time- which was a good thing, considering one of the gladiators wasn't there.

"She's been out a long time, hasn't she?" Al-Wadjet asked.

"Hmm, I guess so- I haven't really been counting," Ronnicus replied, as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"Oh really?" Al-Wadjet asked slyly. "Is that why you haven't been sleeping?"

"Well, uh- you're not sleeping either!" Ronnicus said.

"Yeah, but I've got an excuse," Al-Wadjet replied. Even though Ronnicus's only contact with Al-Wadjet was a hole in his cell's ceiling, he could definitely see the smug smile on the Egyptian's face. "I've got to make some medicine."

"About that," Ronnicus said. "What exactly did you put in the guards' food anyway? Some kind of poison?"

"Ron, please- I'm not that kind of guy," Al-Wadjet said disgustedly.

"So what did you put in?"

"Just my own secret recipe of herbs and spices."

"Uh…"

"Laxatives." (3)

There was a short pause before Ronnicus finally said, "Dude, you sure you couldn't have just poisoned them?"

"Very funny, Ron."

"Al-Wadjet? I wasn't joking. Have you seen the guards' toilets? What you did was cold, man- _cold_."

There was a short laugh from Al-Wadjet, and then he asked, "So, 'fess up- you're worried about her, aren't you?"

"Well- not exactly."

"Huh?"

"No, not really," Ronnicus said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Liar," Rufus whispered from his own bed of straw.

"Well, I am," Al-Wadjet said. "The guards here may be out of the mosaic, but they're not the only ones that'll try to stop her escaping. Rome is a big empire."

"Escape?" Ronnicus exclaimed. "Who said anything about escaping? Kim said she was going to do a little investigation."

" 'Investigation'? Come on Ron- be serious. Why would she want to help the Romans?"

"…I- I didn't really think about that," Ronnicus admitted, his heart sinking into his gut.

"Exactly," Al-Wadjet replied. "To tell the truth Ron, I'm kinda surprised you didn't go too."

"What can I say, Ronacles's needed right here," Ronnicus said with as much bravado as he could manage. In a more normal tone of voice, he added, "Besides, even if I wanted to… I can't."

"Ah, your parents," Al-Wadjet said understandingly.

"Exactly," Ronnicus sighed, when a thought struck him. "Say, why didn't you go?"

Al-Wadjet laughed. "Ron, let's just say being around all this food hasn't exactly made me an outdoors person."

(scene change)

Mentally sighing in relief, Kiminax thanked whatever Gods that might be listening that the Romans weren't exactly outdoors people- if the Arcani who was now walking back to his comrades had any real experience of the woodland and its creatures, he would have known that squirrels don't rustle around clumps of bushes this late at night.

"You sure it wasn't anything, sir?"

"Of course I'm sure!" the Arcani commander said, his helmet muffling his voice, waving his torch in emphasis. "I'm your commanding officer- it is my job to know these things."

Sighing in relief as he walked away, Kiminax slowly stood up to get a better look-

"Gotcha!" someone said from behind her, grabbing her arms. "I've caught our spy, sir!" the unseen assailant yelled, as Kiminax struggled in his arms, cursing under her breath. "Returning to the scene of the crime, eh?" he sneered, ignoring her. "Either you're really brave, or really stupid. Here's a tip- we're the Arcani, we know all about your barbarian tactics!"

"Oh really?" she said, throwing her head upwards into the guard's unprotected jaw. As he staggered back, spitting out a few teeth, Kiminax ran to the Arcani commander while trying to ignore the pain in her own head.

The commander lunged forth with his sword, but in his heavy armor, his speed was no match for the lighter Kiminax. Dodging his clumsy attack easily, the Gaul caught his arm and elbow, and the help of his own momentum, Kiminax threw him into the Arcanus behind her.

The Gaul didn't even have time to catch her breath when the sound of rapid footsteps alerted her to the presence of the other two Arcani rushing behind her. As she turned to face them, they suddenly split up, one to her left, one to her right, before warily circling her with blades drawn.

Kiminax heard the sound of the commander's groaning behind her. Time to take his two goons out.

She rushed forward at one of the Romans. As she expected, the Arcanus in front of her moved into a defensive position, while the one behind her charged forward, with surprising speed for such a heavily armored man- like his captain, however, he wasn't fast enough- or so Kiminax thought. "Ha! Do you think the Arcani'd fall for that trick twice!" the man said, suddenly pulling his sword arm back before Kiminax could grab it, while lunging forward with his other arm to catch Kiminax.

"Yep," Kiminax said simply, using his arm as leverage to kick upwards.

"Mental note," the guard commander muttered as the Arcanus toppled, "get Requisition to give us chin guards."

The last Arcanus, seeing his friend go down, reached for a horn at his side, when the commander yelled, "Stop!"

"Sir?"

"You heard me," the commander said. "She fights too well to be a mere bandit."

"Uh, thanks," Kiminax said.

"Pot it," he replied, although there was a tone of admiration in his voice. "Who do you work for?"

"What?" Kiminax asked.

"You heard me- who do you work for?"

"I don't have to answer your questions," Kiminax said unsteadily.

"Oh, but I think you do," the man said. "All he has to do is blow the horn he has got there," the captain gestured at the other Arcanus, "and before you know it, there will be _at least_ twenty to thirty Arcani out here on horseback, and no matter how fast you are, I don't think you can outrun a horse. Now, who do you work for?"

"I- I don't work for anybody," Kiminax replied. Something in this man's voice- his calmness, his bluntness, _something_ reminded her of the wise men of her homeland, and she felt at peace. "I just wanted to know what was happening." She gulped. Men armed to the teeth, she could handle. The commander's sudden silence, however, demanded to be filled. "I wanted to help investigate," he proclaimed boldly.

"Investigate?" the lesser Arcanus said incredulously. "You? Investigate-"

"Shut up," the captain said coolly, before turning back to Kiminax. "Let me get this straight- you are out here, in the middle of the night, with no purpose but to 'help our investigation', correct?" (4)

"Y-yes," Kiminax mumbled. "I mean, yes!" she said, more defiantly this time.

"And you expect me to believe this?" he asked. Even though his helmet covered his eyes, even more so that it was night, Kiminax felt his eyes boring into her own.

"Yes," Kiminax said, staring back, the confidence in her voice matching the amusement in the Arcani captain's.

They stood, gazes locked for a moment, when the captain snorted. "You," he said, turning to the other Arcanus, "Take care of these two- I want to talk to this newcomer. Don't try anything funny."

"Sir! You can't be serious!"

The captain turned to his subordinate. Flinching from the officer's gaze, the Arcanus nodded hurriedly, and moved to their horses to get some medical supplies. "Now," the captain said, walking Kiminax away out of earshot, "why don't we have a little chat…"

(scene change)

Her stomach still grumbling, Bonita shut the outhouse door as silently as she could. Even though it was exclusive only to the school's higher, administration (meaning her and her family) it still stank- and that wasn't the end of her problems.

What had promised to be a night of passion with Briccus, a night of blood, sweat and tears (minus the blood and tears- at least, not _her_ blood or tears), turned out. Oh sure, there was a great deal of groaning, a lot of grunting, and don't forget the strange smells…

"I hate my life," she muttered. If it weren't for the fact that the Egyptian cook was a cheaply bought slave, she'd have him executed. Or flogged. Flogged then executed. Then she'd flog his corpse. Yes.

Oh, of course you could say that it was her fault for eating gladiators' food too, but wasn't that the point of slumming it? You know, _slumming it_? That being said, the last thing she expected to have happen to her was-

Well now, here was another thing she didn't expect.

Drawing into the shadows, she saw a lithe, redheaded girl drop down into the courtyard, obviously not expecting to be seen, judging by the way she brazenly ran across the well-lit grounds.

Bonita grinned, or at least, let her teeth show. She had a plan…

_Author's note: Yes, I know some of you were expecting slash by now. All I can ask (or rather, beg) of you is that you remain patient. I'm not much inclined to instant gratification, as readers of my Teen Titans series will know all too well. Sorry._

(1)_ Some of my more historically-inclined readers might have guessed what this is. If so, I ask that you refrain from spoiling it, okay? Thank you._

(2)_ Contrary to what you may think, this isn't the first evil laugh in history, merely the first recorded one. The first evil laugh in history was in 20,000 BC, with Shaman Drakdrak's "Whoohwhoohwhooh EEEKEEEKEEK WHOOOOH!", to which his assistant Sh'ko replied, "Ugh."_

(3)_ The Greek philosopher Hippocrates, often called the Father of Medicine, once said, "Let medicine be thy food, and food thy medicine," and considering the level that Greek culture had influenced Egyptian culture, as well as the Egyptian's own mastery of medicine, it isn't so hard to conceive of an Egyptian cook being a kind of General Practitioner._

(4)_ As in the previous chapter, I want to mention that I'm taking substantial, Hollywood-level liberties with the Arcani. Historically, the Arcani weren't as widespread, or even as skilful as my story makes them out to be- and it is definitely untrue (as far as I know) that this Arcani officer is who I will reveal him to be…_


	8. Octus

**VIII**

The two gladiators circled each other in the arena, the screams of the cheering crowd going unheard; not even the sweat trailing from their foreheads into their eyes managed to break their iron concentration.

The taller of the two gladiators, a Nubian giant equipped with trident and net, instinctively tensed himself. His opponent was a _secutor_, unarmored and naked save for a heavy iron helmet, a small oval shield and a loincloth- and he was planning something. The Nubian just knew it. He may have had the advantage of a longer reach, but if the _secutor_ closed-

The Nubian leaped backwards as his opponent lunged forwards, his blade whispering through the air as he plunged his sword in a dagger-like fashion downwards. At first, the Nubian did not understand- his opponent began his attack too soon, his blade could not hope to catch him-

The sound of something ripping soon revealed what the secutor's plan was. In a split second, the Nubian warrior was left with a badly torn net in one hand, his other gripping his trident tighter. Even though his opponent was wearing a helmet that covered his entire face, the Nubian could nevertheless see the arrogant smirk his Roman opponent would be wearing at the thought of imminent victory.

Those thoughts must have been shared by the audience as well, their screams and cheers growing louder and louder, their own bloodlust echoing throughout the arena. The Nubian heard none of it, though- all his senses were concentrated on the Roman in front of him, watching his every move-

_Fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you,_ the Nubian thought wryly as the Roman tried his same move again, plunging his blade downward- but this was the gladiatorial arena, not a barfight, and the Nubian was certainly no drunken souse swinging a broken chair.

He simply ducked to one side in a quick motion, and let the Roman thrust past him. The Roman, realizing his mistake a moment too late, tried to turn around to the Nubian, but in doing so lost his balance and fell to the ground.

A fraction of a second later, a shadow fell over him, and he saw the Nubian standing above him, the points of the trident right above his neck, and the Roman knew that at this moment, his fate would be decided by the screaming crowd- or rather, the sponsor of this match, General Dracus Primus Maximus.

The blue-skinned Roman stood up, and surveyed the roaring masses. His eyes passed over them, and as they did so, the cruel smirk he had been wearing since the beginning of the battle grew wider and wider. After a few seconds, he looked down at the pair of gladiators. He held out his hand, its thumb on its side, and he held that pose for a few suspenseful moments.

Then instead of turning it upwards, he brought his thumb backward, pointing with it to his chest.

"Nothing personal," the Roman heard his opponent say, right before the world went black.

(scene change)

Kiminax gasped as she drew back from the gates in horror. She collapsed, shuddering uncontrollably at what she had just witnessed. She had seen people killed before; being the daughter of a Gaul village's only healers often meant that she would sit at the side of the dead and dying, the causes of their deaths all to obvious from their many wounds.

But in her homeland, men only killed when they had to; when their honour was at stake, when they had to protect their village… but here in Rome, they killed for no purpose, they killed for _fun_.

"I can't do this, Ron," she whispered, Ron hearing her words even over the exultant cheers of the Roman crowd. "I can't do this."

"You're saying like as if you had a choice, Kiminax," Master Barcus said, his shadow suddenly falling over the Britannian as he towered over her.

"Come on, Coach," Ronnicus burst out, much to Master Barcus's (and to a greater extent, his own) surprise. "I, uh- I mean, can't you cut her some slack? She's barely been at the school for a few days, and now you wanna put her into the arena?"

"And now _you're_ saying that like _I_ had a choice, Ronnicus," Barcus said coolly. "In case you've forgotten, Oh Great Unstoppable One, I wasn't the one giving the order to have your friend taken here, nor was I the one responsible for her _being_ here."

"Huh?" Ron asked. "Aren't they the same thing?"

"No, they ain't," Barcus whispered dangerously as he pushed his face just a few inches from Ron's. "Ain't that right, Miss Parsival?" he said, fixing Kiminax with a stern look.

"Yes, Master Barcus sir," Kiminax replied gloomily, remembering the glee with which Bonita had first denounced her in front of the entire school, and then ordered Kiminax into the ring.

"But-" Ronnicus started.

"No buts, Ronnicus," Barcus said. "We can count ourselves lucky that I got Kiminax the night shift. If Bonita had her way, Kiminax would have herself a lunchtime slot. At least, this way, she'll be one of the main attractions- and that'll give her a better chance of survival," he said, pointing a thumb outside. (1)

"…But Master Barcus, nobody at our school's ever got prime time," Ronnicus said, after a moment's thought.

"Oh, I wonder why?" Barcus grumbled under his breath. "Now come on, we got to get you suited up."

Had Kiminax been listening, she might have felt insulted. As it was, seeing the sheer unthinking cruelty of what just happened made her realize not just how alien Roman culture was to her own, but also just how badly she would fit in; even if the arena didn't kill her, the homesickness would. It was trite, she knew- but it was also true.

"Yeah, Kim, me neither."

"Monik?" Kiminax asked, turning around.

"Yeah, me," Monik said, before leaning forward. "You should really stop talking to yourself, Kim."

"I can't help it," Kiminax sighed. "It's just… I just miss home so much."

"Tell me about it, Kim," Monik sighed. "Don't worry, sooner or later we all get it. Normally it's better if it's 'sooner', but I guess that doesn't apply here, huh?" Monik said ruefully.

"Yeah, it doesn't," Kiminax replied in the same tone. Then her brow furrowed. "Say, Monik, what are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh come on, Kim, arena gladiators need food too! Sure, I ain't no Al-Wadjet, but I can cook almost as good as he can, and I can get it to these lumberin' oafs faster than he ever could!"

"Who you calling a lumbering oaf?" a hulking man said, as he lumbered over to the dark-skinned girl.

"Unless I'm mistaken, it's you! Now unless you wanna eat the scraps off the dog's bowl, I suggest you get back and don't touch me, 'cos I'm the cook, y'hear?"

"You cook?" the gladiator asked with sudden respect. "Uh, sorry, I no mean make you mad," he said as he walked backwards, bowing the whole time.

"That's the great thing about being a gladiator's cook," Monik said with an air of satisfaction. "You get almost as much respect from these guys as a healer does- hey, Kim, I think I have a cure for your homesickness."

"You do?"

"Yeah, sure! I hear the arena's just got a doctor a few days ago, and guess what? She's a Britannian too!"

"Thanks Monik, but I-"

But it was too late. Monik had bounded out of her seat and started yelling down a dark passageway for the doctor. "What's the emergency?" the doctor asked from down the passageway, gently but sternly.

"Oh, nothing much," Monik said. "Just a fellow Britannian like you feeling homesick."

"I'm sorry, Miss," the doctor said as she walked up to Monik. "But I'm far better at healing physical wounds than those of the mind."

"Oh come on, Doc, I'm sure you could- Doc?" Monik asked as the doctor stopped in her tracks.

But the doctor wasn't paying attention to Monik. "My Gods… is it- is it really you?" she asked hoarsely, her eyes elsewhere.

"Mom!" Kiminax exclaimed joyfully, as she ran to her mother, who caught the young Gaul in a tight embrace.

"Bics, are you crying?" one gladiator asked another, as the whole room turned to stare at the two Britannians.

"No, I'm not, Vedge, so shut up and stop asking," Bics sniffled.

"Er, aren't they the same thing?"

"Shut sniff up, Vedge."

Monik stared at the scene before her for a moment, then smiled. "I'll just leave you two alone, 'kay?"

(scene change)

At that same moment, another Roman was also close to tears thanks to the actions of a woman.

"Oh come on, Shiko!" Dracus pleaded as he knelt before Shiko's door. Like all servants, her quarters were located in her master's plaza.

The terms 'servant' and 'master' here, of course, being fairly subjective.

"For the last time, blue boy, I'm not doing it!" Shiko yelled back, her voice muffled by the thick wood.

"Please? Pretty please? With honey on top?" (2)

"Hey, blue boy, I said no!"

"Whay no-ooo-ot?"

Suddenly the door swung open, and Dracus was knocked to the side. "Because, Dracus-" Shiko said, looking around. Seeing the dazed Roman general by her door, and not missing a beat, she continued, "I think it's degrading! Yeah, I know it's a big word, but I'm sure even you know what 'degrading' means, don't you?"

"Of course I know what 'degrading' means, Shiko!" Dracus said. "I went to the Academy, you know."

"Yeah, well, know what? Doesn't show," Shiko said, slamming her door behind her.

"But Shiko, I need people behind me for my plan to succeed! I need Senators, the people, the army- I need a good show!" (3)

He scratched his head, wondering what else he could say to persuade Shiko. Then a thought hit him, and he almost doubled over in pain.

"Um, Shiko," he said, squeezing each word through his grimace. "I'll pay you?"

The door creaked open. "Paid? I thought I couldn't get paid. Slave, remember?"

"Yes, and I wish you'd remember that more oft- oof!"

"Oh, _master_, I'm sorry," Shiko said with gleeful mock repentance. "I must have opened the door a little too hard. What was it you wanted to say?"

"Erk… I said… I said I'll pay you, if you help me." He thought for a moment. "But don't tell anyone… please?"

"Oh, don't worry Dracus, I won't tell anyone- it wouldn't be our dirty little secret if anyone else knew, wouldn't it?" Shiko said with a wicked grin. It was what she had been holding out for in the first place; she didn't really mind fighting for Roman entertainment.

After all, it was only a matter of time before she would make the Romans pay…

(scene change)

"…and that's basically how I got here," Kiminax told her mother, as firelight flickered outside, darkness having fallen upon the arena. At first, her mother did not answer, and Kiminax grew worried. "Mom?"

"What? Oh sorry, Kim," her mother replied tiredly, before looking at Kiminax with a gentle look in her eyes. "I suppose I should thank that Master Barcus for getting you the night slot, shouldn't I?"

"To tell the truth Mom, I'd rather not be here at all." Kiminax fell silent, wondering about how to ask the question she had been trying to avoid-

"Your father's fine," her mother said. Seeing the astonished look on Kiminax's face, her mother smiled. "He's working as some rich Roman's personal herbalist."

"Thanks, Mom- I needed to know that," Kiminax replied, when Ronnicus cleared up his throat behind her, and Kiminax blushed. She had been so caught up in talking to her mother, she had not noticed Ronnicus walk up behind her, a slightly scrawny man beside him.

"Uh, Kim," he said, uncertainly. "This is Brianus Colinus, you know, the arena announcer? He wants to know if you've got an arena name." (4)

"Arena name?" Kiminax asked.

"It's an alternate name you use while you're in the arena," Braen explained. "For some renowned gladiators- and not so renowned gladiators," he said, giving a sideways glance at Ron, "their real names are more than enough, but since you're a foreigner, I'll suggest something a bit more snazzy than Kiminax, know what I mean?"

"What's wrong with Kiminax?"

"Like I said- it's too foreign. You need a good Roman name, and soon."

"Soon?" Kiminax and her mother said in unison.

"Um, yeah- that's what I wanted to tell you," Ronnicus said. "You see, um, some big Roman general's sponsoring the prime time show- and the female gladiators are the first up."

"WHAT?"

(scene change)

In his seat, Dracus fidgeted nervously. Nearly his entire fortune (or lack of it) had sunk in the arena, and it did not help matters that-

"These shows you have put on, they do not seem very popular with the Senators who have come here to watch," Caesar Nero said. "However, I have noticed that the common folk like it very much, though," he added, with the gentle ease of an oiled knife sliding out of its scabbard.

"Oh, yes, um… well, what can I say, great Caesar, it's all for the glory of Rome, righ, eh?" Dracus replied, his sweat glistening in the moonlight.

"Oh, but of course, Dracus, but of course," Nero replied, giving Dracus a soothing smile. "After all, we are all Rome's servants, aren't we? From the lowest gladiator or slave, up to- oh, up to even me, your Caesar, we must all be prepared to give our lives for the betterment of Rome, shouldn't we?"

"Ah, yes, that's right-"

"After all, didn't my namesake, the great Julius Caesar, make that same sacrifice, albeit unknowingly? He did all he could for Rome and its people, but all he got for his trouble, his only reward for making himself the best loved man among the people of Rome was to be assassinated by the people he thought his equals and friends, the other Senators." The emperor sighed. "There's a lesson to be learned there, don't you agree, Dracus?"

Dracus gulped, and tried to reply.

No reply.

He gulped again. "I agree fully, great Caesar."

"I thought you might, my dear general. Oh, and one more thing, Dracus," Nero said as he leaned back in his seat.

"Yes, great Caesar?"

"I would suggest some honey for that throat of yours- you're squeaking, like a little girl, Dracus." Again, he gave Dracus a gentle smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Or a little mouse before a cat."

"Y-yes, as you wish, great Caesar."

"Good. Now, I believe you have one more event sponsored? The female gladiators?"

Dracus nodded, unable to speak.

"Well then," Nero said, his chins wobbling as he clapped his hands together. "We should hope this proves to be your greatest success for tonight, shouldn't we?"

(scene change)

"You don't have to do this, Kim," Monik said, as Kiminax fastened the heavy leather armour around her. "I could put on your helmet, and I could go out there and, well, pretend to be you, I guess."

"I don't men to sound selfish, Kiminax," Kiminax's mother said pleadingly, "but I have to agree with your friend-"

"Have you ever fought before, Monik?" Kiminax asked suddenly, her voice flat and cold.

"Uhm, well, no-"

"Then that is my answer," Kiminax said.

"Yeah? Well, I do," Ronnicus said, with a look that he probably thought was determined, but instead gave the impression of acute constipation.

"Having a naked rodent run all over you while you pretend to try and kill it isn't exactly my idea of 'fighting', Ron."

"Whoa, sounds dirty," Rufus chattered.

She stood up and fastened your full-face helmet (5). "Look, I know how to fight, and you don't. Simple. Oh, don't look so surprised, Mom," Kiminax said, seeing the look on her mother's face. "Helping Dad find herbs back home was actually a lot more dangerous than you would think."

"You'll have to tell me all about it when you come back," her mother said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I will, Mom, I will," Kiminax said, hugging her mother tightly.

And then, all too soon, she was in the arena, the baying Roman crowd calling out for blood all around her, and Kiminax steeled herself, willing herself to be strong enough to kill.

After all, isn't that what the Romans would consider-

"A good show, ladies and gentlemen, this I promise you! This Rome promises you, as is your right!" the announcer yelled. "And what show could be better than to see two beautiful ladies fight it out in our arena? Women, who have long been renowned for giving life, are going to fight tonight to take it for your pleasure!"

"And now," he continued, pointing to Kiminax, "allow me to introduce you to our first contender, brave Amazon!"

_Amazon?_ Kiminax thought, her fears temporarily replaced by disbelief. _That's the best name they can come up with?_

But all thought immediately shut down, at least for a moment, when she saw who was being introduced next.

"And in the other side of the arena, the courageous Achillia!" (6)

Shiko took in the crowd's adulation. Sure, they were all Roman, but hey, she'd take them while they lasted. Unlike Kiminax, who had been outfitted in a leather replica of a legionnaire's armour, Shiko's garb was a combination of form-fitting leather armour over her vulnerable areas, and green cloth elsewhere.

And in keeping with her unorthodox attire, was an equally unusual armament. Instead of a conventional weapon, Shiko wielded what appeared to be two torches, one in each hand, and sharpened at the ends. Twirling them around in front of the crowd, Shiko touched them to an already burning torch- where they each flared into life with a green flame.

Kiminax looked down at her only weapon, a sword. "This is so not good," she whispered to herself, before going into a fighting stance.

So not good indeed.

_Historical notes:_

_(1) The Roman version of a 'primetime slot', as mentioned here, was during the night, as not many people would want to sit in the open-air arena during the hot Roman afternoons._

_(2) In the days before widespread sugar use, honey was the main sweetener, and was very popular. I'm not too sure about whether cherries were known in the Roman Empire though._

_(3) Sponsoring events in the arena was a great (albeit expensive) shortcut for Roman social and/or political climbers to get ahead in Roman society- although one had to be careful that one did not just lose one's money in the attempt._

_(4) Boom goes the dynamite!_

_(5) This ensemble sound familiar?_

_(6) Do a Google search for 'female gladiators', and you'll see why these two names are so significant._

_Addendum:_

_Sorry this took so long; blame author Chendzeea Li and her 100-chapter long FF8 fic Frozen (Quistis/Fujin). The grammar might not be up to everyone's standard, but the story itself makes me pale in comparison. Highly recommended._


	9. Nonus

**IX**

Whenever there are games held at an arena or an amphitheatre, the massive machine that is Rome grinds to a halt. Shops close, and almost all the citizens of Rome bunk off work as they all proceed to the arena for a day and night of entertainment funded by the Emperor, or by some rich citizen seeking to curry favour with the masses.

Almost all the citizens of Rome.

One such group of citizens were in an inn located next to the city's wall. It was a large building, but had the regular citizens of the surrounding area been there, they would have shook their heads in disbelief at the patrons who apparently preferred a night of drunken revelry over a day of games.

And that was exactly what the Arcani wanted the people of Rome to think.

In one of the basement rooms, an Arcani officer's brow creased as he read the latest report from his spies in Egypt. The report, combined with his the shipping records from Ostia… it sounded crazy, too crazy.

He had to admit though- it was pretty unbelievable. Anyone without the Arcani intelligence network would have never seen any connection between these two… what? Crimes? As far as he could tell, nothing unlawful had been committed. In fact, it was only his gut instinct that was telling him there was something wrong here. And if he told anyone of his suspicions- why, they'd have him locked up!

He only hoped his latest lead would pan out-

"Sir! Sir!" an adjutant said breathlessly as he ran into the room.

"What is it?"

"That woman we were watching! Shiko! She's in the gladiatorial games!"

"Jupiter!" the officer swore, placing a hand on his head. Although their intelligence indicated that Shiko was more than capable enough of taking care of herself, there was always the chance-

"it gets worse, sir! That girl from the gladiator school, that Britannian-"

"Let me guess- she's in the games too?"

"Worse, sir- she's up against Shiko. What do we do, Centurion?" the adjutant said, addressing his superior by his title.

Centurion Vespasian leaned back in his chair, his fists clenched over his eyes. It was at times like this that he should have listened to his mother and stayed a Consul. (1)

(scene change)

"We who are about to die, salute you!"

Brutally honest though the oath was, Kiminax was thankful for it, as it sobered her up to the upcoming battle, and from what she could see, she was in a lot of trouble. Everything about Shiko's equipment seemed to be streamlined for combat.

Her torches, for example, weren't just there for show; when the two combatants closed for a few moments in the opening minutes of the fight, the heavy blows whoosh of the wind as they cut though the air told her two things: that the spikes at the bottom of their handles weren't the only dangerous things about them, and that Shiko was a whole lot stronger than her lithe body made her out to be.

And that lithe body was another problem. The seemingly random pattern of the clothing she wore, all black with patches of green (or vice versa), combined with the bright green afterimages left by her torches and the generally dull light of the arena served to make her a much harder opponent to hit. Kiminax was reminded of the way her own countrymen would dab woad on their bodies to hide their outlines when attacking at dawn- (2)

Kiminax suddenly had an idea, and through the slits of her helmet, her eyes narrowed. If her idea worked, then both she and Shiko would be able to get out alive… but first things first. She had to give the Romans a good show, and with not a sound escaping her lips, she charged Shiko.

Seeing her opponent charge, Shiko broke out into a grin. This fight had barely started, and she could already see that this was no ordinary opponent. As her leather-clad foe came closer and close, Shiko dropped into a defensive crouch with her torches held crosswise across her chest, ready to spring into action if she needed to-

"What?" she said in disbelief as the other woman suddenly took a running leap over her, flipping in the air to land behind Shiko- but she followed up with a clumsy downswing that Shiko found all too easy to block with her torches.

"And you were doing so well," Shiko said sarcastically. She threw her opponent back, then brought her torches down-

-onto thin air. A cloud of dust to her right told her where the other woman had jumped to, and was now charging from-

-with another flurry of amateurishly done sword swings. Geez, Shiko thought in disgust, as she easily blocked the attacks, it's almost as if she doesn't want to hurt me.

She had to admit, amateurish they may have been, they _did_ look good. Well, two can play at that game.

Shiko jumped away

Kiminax's brows were creased in concentration. She had to make sure that this fight looked good, but at the same time she had to make sure that Shiko (who for all her theatricality, fought better than some of the professionals earlier in the day), didn't end up, well, killing her.

Easier said than done.

Nevertheless, Kiminax kept up her ineffective assault, making sure that Shiko always had ample room to deflect or dodge her blows. All she had to do was keep up the fight for a few moments longer-

"Didn't see that, didja?" Shiko yelled triumphantly as she planted her foot squarely in her foe's stomach, knocking the other woman skidding several feet away onto the ground.

The crowd went wild. Gasping for breath, Kiminax scrambled around frantically for her sword, when she saw it a few feet away. She reached for it, but it was too late. Shiko's foot came down upon her hand, hard.

At least, that was how Shiko planned it.

What happened instead was that her adversary simply moved her hand a few inches to the side when her foot came down, and then, with a speed that impressed even Shiko, grabbed the Dacian's foot and pulled her down. Shiko only managed to get up in the nick of time as the other woman somersaulted over to her own sword and picked it up.

"Oh, you're good," Shiko snarled, as the two combatants circled warily. "Got any more surprises for me?"

The other woman didn't reply at first. Instead she simply moved her hand under her helmet and Shiko took this opportunity to charge, raising her heavy torches-

"Just one," Kiminax answered, dropping her helmet as a stunned Shiko halted in mid-stride. Now wasting a moment, Kiminax swung her sword and knocked Shiko's torches out of her hands, and in that same seamless flowing motion high-kicked Shiko to the ground.

Roaring in approval, various members of the crowd, yelling "Mitte! Spare her!" gave a thumbs-down sign, or waved their handkerchiefs, while an equal number pressed their thumbs to their chests and shouted "Lugula! Cut the throat!". Shiko's eyes, however, were not looking at them. Her eyes were on the Emperor. (3)

The roars of the crowd only grew louder as Nero rose from his seat. He looked down at the two women in the arena with a nonchalant smile, before extending a hand, and the crowd held its breath, waiting for the Emperor's decision.

"My dear Dracus," he said, waving the crowd into silence. "A good fight, wasn't it? Pity about your slave, though- to be beaten by a mere Britannian gladiatrix. Not much of a threat to anyone- least of al… you, is she?"

"Of- of course not, Great Caesar," Dracus mumbled.

"But of course, one must always make sure," Nero said, before pressing his thumb to his chest in a slow, stabbing motion. (4)

Down below, Kiminax's heart sank. She didn't know much of gladiator culture, but by the suddenly malicious tone of the crowd's roars, she knew- she knew she hadn't been good enough, and her distressed eyes turned to Shiko…

"Well, what are you waiting for- Saturnalia?" Shiko snarled over the roar of the crowd. (5)

But Kiminax could not bring herself to do it, even knowing that they would both probably end up killed. She couldn't for many reasons, but greatest among them was that if she did this, she would have lost the one of the deepest connections she had to her home, where the lives of people had far more worth than sport- where the lives of friends had far more worth than sport-

_Got any more surprises for me?_ Shiko had said…

"Get up," Kiminax said, holding her sword down at Shiko, pointed at the Dacian's throat. "I said, get up!" she shouted, the steel in her voice audible even above the thunderous roar of the crowd, which only grew louder in approval.

Shiko knew this was coming, but it was still an effort to make herself stand up. She stood stiffly, her back straight and her eyes open. Even then, though, she felt a twinge of pride. From somewhere deep inside her, she felt proud to know that of all the people she had fought through her life, the fact that it was Kiminax who defeated her made it- made it all right, she supposed.

In that slight, light-headed haze that seems to come over people when they were about to die, Shiko noted that Kiminax, if anything, had the 'arrogant gladiatrix' look down pat, and it made her look real good in the torchlight…

Kiminax's eyes narrowed, and her slightly shaky grip on her blade stabilized. She leaped forward, sung her sword-

-and missed Shiko completely. But Kiminax wasn't finished yet. As the attention of the crowd and Shiko focused on the missed blade, Kiminax took her chance. With her free hand, she reached behind Shiko, pulled her close-

-and kissed her as passionately as she could.

It seemed as if the whole world had stopped, and in a way, it had. A stunned silence filled the arena, and even the battle-hardened Shiko was too shocked to do anything but give in.

Kiminax herself was having second thoughts. She had never kissed anyone before; her father had steadfastly refused to entertain any questions she had on the subject, and all her knowledge of the act had come she managed to overhear from her village's gossips.

She hoped she was doing it right; it certainly felt that way…

Suddenly, Kiminax's mind pulled the rest of her into the here and now. Remembering where she was, Kiminax broke off the kiss, and like the crowd, stood in nervous silence- for a few moments. If there was anything her short gladiatorial training had taught her, it was that her nerves must be overcome, that each moment must be seized- or die. And so, steeling herself once more, Kiminax turned to face the Roman crowd-

"Are you not entertained?" she yelled. "_Are you not entertained?_" (6)

The next thing she knew, she was assaulted- not by any weapon, but by a wall of sound so loud it almost had a physical presence that pushed her over, a massive, singular shout from the throats of thousands, all crying out one word: "Amazon! Amazon! Amazon!"

High above the two gladiators, Nero turned back to the sweating Dracus. "Well, this puts me at an impasse, Dracus," he said, in a low whisper that nevertheless seemed to penetrate the voices of the crowd.

"What do you mean, Great Caesar?" Dracus asked nervously. "I mean, you should let her live, right? It is what the people want."

"Ah yes, that's the trouble, isn't it? What the people want? It's so hard to predict what they want, that it is better that in the end that rulers decide it for themselves. A week from now, perhaps, we shall have another round of games, and the people will have forgotten this," Nero said, bringing his thumb back to his chest-

A messenger, panting and out of breath, rushed up beside Nero and whispered in the Emperor's ear. Dracus could not hear what was being said, but by the way the Emperor seemed to relax, it must have been good news, and Dracus hoped that he would allow-

"However," Nero said after the messenger had finished, as if his conversation had not been interrupted. "Sometimes, we must indulge the people as we would indulge a child we love, dom't you agree?" he said, and then, jabbed his thumb firmly downward.

An exhausted Dracus could only nod.

_Historical notes:_

_(1) Told you you wouldn't believe who this guy is- like the Arcani, I'm taking great liberties with Nero's true successor (OMG spoilzorz) (1a). Renowned as an honourable man (according to the historian Suetonius) he was elected Consul of Rome in 51, but retired soon after, only coming out of retirement in 63 to become Governor of Rome's African provinces. I couldn't find any sources which detail his life in those 12 years, so…_

_(1a) I say 'true successor', as Nero was succeeded by Emperors Galba, Otho and Vitellus, in that order, before Vespasian took the throne._

_(2) Woad (rhymes with road) is a certain dye obtained from a plant of the same name in Britain, and, as is noted by Kiminax, was used by British warriors to paint themselves blue during early morning ambushes, and sometimes in regular battle (although its use then was more mystical than practical). I'd go into the process of making the woad body paint, but this is a kid-friendly site, and the paint involves bodily fluids you young 'uns ain't s'posed to know about._

_(3) Contrary to popular belief, the thumbs-down sign didn't mean that the gladiator would be sentenced to death- in fact, it meant the exact opposite, as it signified the victorious gladiator putting down his/her weapon. Waving a handkerchief also meant that you wanted the fallen warrior to live. However, pressing a thumb to the chest signified a sword thrust…_

_(4) The Emperor or the Games' sponsor(s) had final say on whether a gladiator would live or die, as determined by rank._

_(5) Saturnalia was a Roman solstice festival from the 17th to 23rd December, and is usually credited as one of the major inspirations for the Christian celebration of Christmas._

_(6) Like I'd write a story in Ancient Rome involving gladiators without making at least some reference to the movie. This line and other materiel derived from it is copyright David Franzoni, Dreamworks and Universal Studios._


	10. Decius

**X**

The next day, Rome was all abuzz with the news of the fight the evening before. Old women in the markets spoke to each other with disapproval in their stares and sternness in their tones. Men eating their Breakfast Meals at Piada Hut (1) sniggered at and nudged each other, knowing eyebrows raised. Already, several young citizens ('most of whom were male', a report delicately said) had been arrested for writing graffiti on the Colosseum walls (2) professing their… love… for the female gladiators.

And in the gladiator school, well…

"Briccus, will you at least put your hands up?" an exasperated Master Barcus said, his hands over his eyes, as Kiminax fumed at her opponent.

"Aw, but if I did that, I might win!" Briccus said in a mock pout. "And I don't wanna win! I wanna kiss her!" he added with puckered lips- "Yeech!" he spat, as Rufus scampered down his armour with considerably less stealth and more speed than he had climbing up. "Gods, Ronnicus, what're you feeding that thing?" he said, wiping the taste of the molerat's kiss off his lips as he turned behind him.

"A little something called Formaggio Marcio," Ronnicus said, grinning. "Want some?"(3)

Briccus twitched. His eyes goggled, and he was twitching slightly as he tried to accommodate the mental image of him eating the cheese.

"Maggots…" he whispered in horrified fascination.

_The cheese had maggots in it._

"Yeah, and they're still alive!" Ronnicus said.

_There were maggots crawling out of it, peeking out of it._

"That's how you can tell they're fresh!" he continued. (3a)

_Wriggling, writhing, pale little maggots… with their segmented bodies, and their little black jaws…_

"Huh, I guess he didn't want any," Ronnicus said, taking another bite of the cheese.

"You know what, Ronnicus? Maybe you should bring that cheese with you into the arena," Matser Barcus moaned. "All you'd need to win is eat it in front of someone."

"Wot'ff vat 'ou fay, fir?" Ronnicus asked through an entire mouthful of the stuff. There was a rush of wind, a cloud of dust, and- "Hey, where'd everybody go?" Ronnicus asked, swallowing.

"The latrine," Kiminax said, pointing to where the crowd had gathered.

"Uh, Kim," Monik said, shuddering as Ronnicus kept on eating, "You're not at all grossed out by what Ron's eating?"

"Nope," Kiminax said easily. "Remind me to tell you about black pudding sometime."

"I'll pass," Monik said- anything that could make maggot cheese seem normal, well, just wasn't. "Hon," she said to Ronnicus, "you better not let Al-Wadjet see you eating that. He'd have a fit."

"No he wouldn't."

"Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?"

"Where'd you think I got the cheese from?" Ron munched.

"…So, you going to go to the banquet tonight?" she asked, a faint hint of green visible even through her dark skin.

"Ugh, I don't know," Kiminax grumbled. "The last thing I want to see's a bunch of Romans."

"You kidding me, Kim?" Ronnicus asked. "This is like, gonna be the biggest event of the year! Well, our year, anyway. You can't pass it up!"

"Why not? One banquet's the same as another, right?"

"Girl, trust me- you don't know what you're talking about," Monik said, placing a hand on Kiminax's shoulder. "When the Romans party, they _par-tay!_"

"Oh wow, and I thought I'd run out of reasons not to go," Kiminax grumbled.

"Okay, now I know something's going on," Monik said, her hands on her hips. "What's the matter with you, Kim? The party's in your honour, why won't you go? I mean, Bonita's not invited, so she's not gonna be there-"

"She'll be _here_," Ronnicus said, beautiful visions dancing in his head

"-and you'll even get to see your parents there! I don't see what the big deal is, Kim!"

"Well, for one, that Dracus guy's going to be there-"

"So? After last night, I think he'd be more scared of you than you are of him."

"Secondly, you guys won't be there."

"So what? We can't be happy for you?" Monik said dismissively. "It's your party, Kim- you have to go."

"Don't worry, we'll be okay," Ronnicus said, placing a hand on Kim's shoulder. "I mean, it's not like the Huns are gonna come charging across the mountains- I hope," he squeaked.

"Staring at the moon again?" Rufus asked.

"It calls to me…" Ron said, wide-eyed.

"Crazy talk aside…" Monik said, (4) shooting Ronnicus an exasperated look. "Look, Kim, what's the problem?"

"Well… um…"

"Well um what Kim? What else can there be?"

Kim mumbled something.

"What's that, Kim? I didn't hear you."

Kiminax mumbled again.

"Kim, if you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't-"

"She'll be there!" Kim shouted.

"She?"

"Yes, 'she'! You know!"

"No, I- oh, okay, I get it" Monik said as comprehension dawned.

"I mean, I kissed her! _I kissed her!_" Kiminax moaned.

"Yeah, you sure did," Briccus said dreamily, as he came staggering back.

The trio didn't say anything; instead, as Kiminax and Monik glared at the blond gladiator, Ronnicus took another piece of maggot cheese from a pouch on his belt, and took a huge bite.

"As I was saying," Kiminax said through the dust cloud, "I can't go there! It'll be so the drama if I did that-"

"What so the drama about it?" Monik insisted. "Come on, Kim, we all know you did that so you'd both end up leaving the arena alive. You're a nice girl; it's not like that's such a big secret."

"But-" Kiminax began, when Ronnicus interrupted.

"Yeah- I mean, would you kiss a girl otherwise? Bleeech! I know that'd be the only reason I'd kiss a guy," he said, his face a rictus of disgust.

"Uh, yeah, right," Kiminax said uncertainly. "Look, guys, it's okay, I-"

"Open the gates! Open the gates!" someone called from outside the school. "I bear a message from the Emperor!" The messenger didn't even wait for the gates to open fully, speeding his horse through with only inches to spare, so great was his hurry. "Who among you is the gladiatrix Kiminax?" (5)

Kiminax raised a timid hand.

"The Emperor, has sent me, to tell you that he wishes, the pleasure of your presence at the banquet tonight," the messenger proclaimed in short, halting gasps. Kiminax pitied him; he looked even more tired and out of breath than his horse- and that was saying something.

"Well, girl," Monik grinned at a shocked Kiminax. "Let's find you something to wear- kay?"

(scene change)

"Good evening, Lady Croetia!," Dracus said, standing at his villa's gates. "So good to see you!"

_I wish I could say the same_, Lady Croetia thought as she gave a polite grin in return.

"Senator Gaius! So glad you could come!"

_Good- that means one of us is happy._

"General Africanus! Where have the years gone?"

_Considering they brought me to your doorstep- straight down the drain._

And so it went on and on, Dracus greeting each and every one of his guests- and considering that the Emperor himself was rumoured to be coming, there were a lot of guests. As they came in, each of them noticed that Dracus's mind seemed to be elsewhere; his stiff smile seemed to have been painted on, and his equally formal posture told the more politically astute and/or paranoid guests that Dracus had other, more important things on his mind.

In a way, they were right.

_How am I going to pay for all this?_ Dracus moaned inwardly.

He had counted over ninety people already, and he knew that even his lavish villa couldn't accommodate that many people. Granted, quite a few of them were the various bodyguards and security personnel that seemed to gather around the rich like flies, but even with them eating outside the villa (where all servants belonged), Dracus was sure this party was going to be a disaster. Visions danced in his head, mental images of him sitting at a table, frantically trying to balance his books, while his house burned and a brute from the moneylender stood ready to stab him. (6)

"Hey, nice party, General D," Shiko said, as the last of the guests went into the house. "You got any more of those little fruits on sticks?"

"Any more- Shiko," he said in a quiet, dead voice. "Tell me you didn't eat the party treats? At least, not all of them, did you?"

"Of course I did!" Shiko sniffed. "You think I'd be asking you for more if I didn't?"

Dracus didn't say anything; instead, he just sat down at the front of his gates, out of the sight of his guests, and began to very quietly cry.

"Doy…" Shiko sighed. "Hey, blue boy, I was kidding, okay, kidding! We've got lots of the stuff left."

"W-what?" Dracus asked, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You sure?"

"Duh, of course I'm sure."

"Oh, well, that's a relief."

"It's roasted dormice we're out of."

"…Oh- oh! I get it! Very good, Shiko!" Dracus laughed. "You really had me going for a minute! I mean, you're joking, right? Right?"

"What do you think?" Shiko asked, and stood back to enjoy the show.

(scene change)

"And how are you enjoying the food, gladiatrix?" one guest, a woman who resembled certain fertility goddesses, asked Kiminax.

"Very well, thank you," Kiminax said uncertainly but politely- in her village, her father's position as Druid meant that he would often share his table with dignitaries and chieftains, as well as their families. In turn, they would share their table with him and his family- occasions which, truth be told, were not much different from this; at least, not to Kiminax.

It was just that, with the Romans, it all seemed to be magnified tenfold, even thought the Emperor had not arrived yet. From the fake laughter of those kowtowing to their superiors (7), the barely heard whispers of those seeking a more direct route to power, to the loud music and lavish clothing, she had seen and heard it all before, just not on the scale the Romans seemed to do it.

And the food.

Oh the food.

The banquet began, like in Kiminax's village, with a glass of honey-flavoured wine, but here the diners all dropped a piece of burnt toast into their silver goblets before drinking (8), right before the appetizers were served, and Kiminax gaped in awe at the variety; celery and lettuce competed with shallots and sea urchins for the diners' attention, and as much as she disliked the Romans, Kiminax couldn't help but try at least one of each dish.

Which meant that she was filled to bursting by the time the main courses came in. rabbits' livers marinated in eggs and milk, cooked in a wine and fish sauce and served with a strange, but sweet custard, whole boar boiled in sea water, whole deer stuffed with dates and damsons- and the roasted dormice (Shiko's mouth had been bigger than her stomach, much to Dracus's relief). Can't forget them. (9)

"My dear, is that all you're eating?" a large man laughed from his seat across the table. "Come now, you're Roman now! You should eat like one!"

"Oh, dear, come now," one woman said condescendingly. "She's been here only- what, a week or so? Isn't that right, General?" she asked, turning to Dracus.

"I don't know- not long," the blue-skinned man replied candidly. "Is it important?"

"Of course it is," the woman chided good-naturedly. "I'm trying to win an argument with my husband- you know how he is. Anyway, I think we can all agree she's been here for a short time; you cannot expect her to learn what it's like to be civilized in such a short time, much less Roman."

"Our dog managed it," her husband noted, holding out his glass for refill.

"Well, that's because it's a _dog_, husband mine," she retorted in that same genial tone. "Dogs can learn."

"Excuse me," Kiminax said. "I suddenly feel ill," she continued pointedly.

"Allow me," a female slave said, taking Kiminax's arm.

"What? Hey!" Kiminax said, as the slave gently but firmly led her away. "Where are you taking me?"

"I do believe you've offended the slave, my dear wife," the man said as Kiminax was led away, still protesting.

"We're Roman, husband dear," the woman sniffed. "Our very existence offends the barbarians."

"Thank Jupiter!" Dracus finished with a triumphant flourish, to the laughter of those nearby.

(scene change)

"Where are you taking me?" Kiminax asked indignantly as she was led through the halls away from the banquet, and to a balcony on the villa's second floor.

"You parents are safe," the slave replied simply, when she suddenly realized she was trying to pull along a brick wall.

"Wait- what do you mean, 'my parents are safe'? I thought they were safe already! Has something happened-"

"No, no!" the slave laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that I decided that they shouldn't be here."

"What? Why not? Wait- you're a slave. What do you mean 'you decided'?"

The slave smiled. Now that Kiminax could take a close look at her, this good-looking, tan woman, with a fall of short brunette hair covering one side of her face, seemed to have an odd aura of authority about her. "Let's just say I know people," she smiled. "Look, don't worry, they're with friends-"

"Hey, you! Aren't you supposed to be serving drinks or something?"

"My apologies, Mistress Shiko," the slave said humbly at the woman just now coming up to them, glass in hand, not missing a beat. "Our guest had eaten her fill before the main course arrived, and as she is unfamiliar with Roman custom, I thought I would take her to the vomitorium, so that she may return to enjoy her feast." (10)

"Yeah, whatever," Shiko said, waving a hand dismissively. "Go back to the table. I've got a few things I want to talk about with your new friend."

"Of course, Mistress Shiko," the slave said, before hurrying away.

"Okay, what were you two talking about?" Shiko asked brusquely when she was sure the slave was out of earshot. "And don't give me any innocent looks either- 'going to the vomitorium', yeah right!"

"N-nothing that concerns you," Kiminax said defiantly.

Shiko raised an eyebrow as she walked over and gazed over the balcony. "You know, there are a lot of ways I can punish you for saying things like that. Yeah, I'm a slave, but as your friend said: I know people."

"You were listening." It was a statement, not a question.

"Duh! Hmm, let's see, I come here for a quiet drink, or at least get away from all the Romans, and I see two slaves gossiping in the halls! What else was I supposed to do?" she asked, turning back to Kiminax.

"Leave us alone, maybe?" Kim scowled.

"Oooh, looks like someone's woken up on the wrong side of the cot," Shiko laughed. "Come on, Kimmie, that's not nice. Especially since…" she trailed off, instead letting a wink and a salacious grin do the rest of the talking.

_It's started,_ Kiminax sighed inwardly. "Look, Shiko, back there at the arena, I was-"

"Trying to save both our lives, I know," Shiko said calmly, taking another drink. "Whatever."

"You know, I'd have thought you'd be a lot more grateful."

"Not anymore, Kim," Shiko said in a calm, but bitter whisper. "I'm way past that. Trust me, I've seen too much to be scared by a little dying," she added. The way she smiled when she said that, combined with the way the light the outside torches illuminated her, gave Shiko a haunting look that chilled Kiminax's spine. "To tell you the truth, there's a lot of things and people I wouldn't mind leaving behind."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, when Shiko turned to her, suddenly perked up. "And speaking of leaving people behind- where'd you go? I understand not wanting commitment, but kissing _me_, getting _my_ applause, and then leaving just like that? Kimmie, Kimmie, Kimmie- that's just plain _rude_."

Shiko took a drink as Kiminax found herself blushing as furiously as she did back in the arena. "Well…" the dark haired woman continued, amused at Kiminax's discomfort, "I was that good, huh?"

"What?" Kiminax asked incredulously.

"You mean I wasn't?" Shiko asked, shocked.

"No! I mean, yes! Wait, I mean-"

"Gotcha," Shiko grinned.

"…I hate you."

Shiko's only reply was a wicked laugh. She was still wiping tears from her eyes when she spoke again. "You shoulda seen the look on your face, Princess!" she said. "I mean, I've seen blue-boy back there lose it a few times, but you, you-"

She burst out laughing again.

"Well, I'm glad _one_ of us is having a good time," Kiminax sniffed.

"Awww, did I make widdle ol' Pwincess Kimmie mad?" Shiko mocked, when her tone suddenly changed to become rich, seductive. "Want another kiss to make it all better?"

Kiminax gaped, her mouth opening and closing to beat a goldfish. Later, she would not have been able to quite articulate just why that question had shocked her so. Much later, however, when it was all over, she would have allowed herself to realize that it's not every day that she had the acceptance of her secret desires so openly thrown in one's face.

"What- hey!" Shiko exclaimed upon seeing Kiminax's astonishment. "I wasn't being serious!" she added- but there was a hint, just a hint, of red in those pale cheeks, and Kim suddenly couldn't help but wonder…

Were the thoughts running through her head now running through Shiko's as well?

Suddenly there was a flourish of trumpets, and the two women turned in its direction, both relieved for the distraction.

"Lookee who's here," Shiko said herself. "It's the big cheese himself."

"Who?" Kiminax asked, her mind still a bit of a mess.

"Who else? The Emperor."

(scene change)

Kiminax returned to the banquet room alone, Shiko having complained of a Roman sickness (in that, she was sick of Romans), and if she had thought the banquet was noisy before, she soon found out just how wrong she was. The Emperor, resplendent in gold trimmed white and purple robes moved into the room. Kiminax couldn't help but be reminded of when she first laid eyes on a Roman Legion: like them, he moved at a deceptively gentle, deliberate pace, but despite its slowness, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the Emperor would only stop when, and only when, he wanted to.

And in this case, he wanted to stop in front of the newly returning gladiatrix. "Returning from the vomitorium, I see," he said with calm cheer, and Kiminax was immediately on her guard, because she knew that she could see what most of the Romans here could not: despite his appearances as an overweight fop, one look into his hard eyes told Kiminax all she needed to know about the man. "You must be enjoying yourself."

"Yes, I am, great Emperor," Kiminax said with an equally icy calm politeness, and there was a quiet sigh of relief from those who doubted the barbarian's graces, as well as an equally silent gasp of indignation that the barbarian should be the first person that the Emperor talk to.

"I would certainly hope so, my dear," Nero said. "It is, after all, in your honour, my dear gladiatrix. Isn't it, General Dracus?"

"Uh, y-yes, great Emperor!" Dracus fawned, as Nero turned back to regard Kiminax.

"Now my dear, what do you say we step outside for a moment, you and I?"

There was another murmur through the room, another sense of relief. _So that's why he approached her first! _it seemed to whisper. _She is rather good looking, after all._ _Tit should be all right, so long as he does not forget us!_

If Kiminax heard it, she didn't pay attention. She would have correctly dismissed it as untrue, anyway. For reasons she could not explain, the man she followed outside, with an almost-second-chin, gaudy clothes and lyre slung at his waist, seemed far more dangerous than the legion that attacked her village, more dangerous than any gladiator, more dangerous even, than Shiko.

"I've always preferred starless nights like this one, Miss… Kiminax, wasn't it?"

"Yes, great Caesar," Kiminax answered.

"Please, dispense with the formality. Call me Nero," the Emperor smiled.

Kiminax looked up at him, defiance in her eyes. Strangely enough, she didn't feel scared. In her mind's eye, she could see him giving the orders to raid her village, or at least personally appointing the man who did. She could see him at the head of a massive Roman army, his very name a symbol of might making right.

"I am afraid I cannot do that, great Caesar," Kiminax said, but her tones were of those of quiet defiance.

Instead of the angry explosion she expected, Nero merely nodded calmly, and went back to looking up at the sky. "Are you aware of the stir you've caused, my dear Kiminax?"

"Great Caesar?" Kiminax asked, her brow wrinkling in honest bewilderment.

"You don't know? In the space of one fight, your first in the arena in fact, you've garnered more admirers than other gladiators who have fought for their whole lives. Even the current fame of your opponent lies merely on the fact that she was the recipient of your kiss. That's quite a lot of support for a gladiator, much less a newcomer such as yourself."

He then turned his gaze downwards, his contemplative gaze fixing on Kiminax. "I want to know where your loyalties lie. I _need_ to know."

"My… loyalties?"

"Yes, but of course! As I said, you're a very popular gladiator at the moment," he said, in tones that said it was entirely up to him how long that moment was going to be- and how it would end. "With your public, or even private, endorsement, a man can become very powerful indeed. Men such as your owner, General Dracus, for example- or his Emperor."

Kiminax couldn't believe what she was hearing. She walked up to the pudgy emperor, until she was nose to nose with him. "You want to know something, _Nero_? I don't know what you're planning," she spat quietly, "and personally, I don't care- just as long as you leave me out of it."

"Are you sure?" Nero asked calmly. "After all, the right choice of master could mean your freedom and that of your family."

"And what? Being in debt to you? To Dracus? That's a strange way of defining 'freedom'," Kiminax scoffed. "If there is a way that my family will be free, truly free, your power games have nothing to do with it."

"Oh dear, so you will not join me?"

"Not you, not Dracus, nor any Roman," Kiminax whispered angrily, and then, realizing what she just said, braced for the explosion.

Instead, Nero just laughed, laughed merrily. "Excellent, Kiminax!" he said in sincere mirth. "Simply excellent! That is good to hear!"

"Caesar?" Kiminax asked, her bewilderment and uncertainty returning with a vengeance.

"Oh, but I have kept you away from your own party long enough, haven't I? Come, my dear, let's go back inside."

(scene change)

One of the main indications that Dracus was a man who continually strived for fame, yet never got it right was the size of his vomitorium, capable of only housing one person at a time. Earlier in the banquet, this had caused some problems, but now, as it was winding down, it was a good place for secrecy, even if it did stink a bit-

"-for which I apologize," the female slave who had been talking to Kiminax said.

"No need to," Vespasian replied. "You know as well as I do that we Arcani cannot choose our hiding places."

"Yes sir."

"You know, this is exactly why I don't like these large dinners- you're always obligated to visit the vomitorium at least once."

"Yes sir."

"And don't you 'yes, sir' me. Another thing I'm sure we both know is that the only reason you're my second in command is because those fools in the Senate would never accept a woman in charge. Anyway, what have you to report?"

"Well, from what she told Nero, Kiminax seems determined to remain a political wild card."

"And so we've gained nothing. Jupiter! If she would only pick a side! Wait- could her refusal mean that they try harder to win her over?"

"I doubt it, Vespasian- Nero seemed pretty pleased with her decision. That alone tells me she's pretty resolute."

Vespasian sighed. Of course he'd be pleased- at the moment she was too popular to take out directly, which would mean that if she had taken sides with Dracus, she could have proven a serious thorn in his side. Nero had gained enough power for himself; it was preventing others from doing the same that preoccupied him.

No matter the consequences.

"Vespasian?"

"What?"

"You were thinking out loud, again."

"Sorry, there's been a lot weighing on my mind. I feel like Ulysses, caught between two crashing cliffs."

"If that is the case, Ulysses," the slave said, placing her arms around Vespasian's neck, "then your Penelope wishes to remind you of the existence of pigeons."

"Doves, dear, doves," Vespasian answered, returning the embrace. "And where exactly, is the dove that will save the ship of state?" (11)

"Call it a hunch, but I guess it may be Kiminax. There's something about her… her determination, maybe, or perhaps her resourcefulness- I don't know. I just feel it."

"If you say so," Vespasian replied. "And her parents?"

"Safe and sound, as you requested, and if you don't mind saying so, that was a very kind gesture of yours."

"How could I not, Diacta?" he said, brushing aside the hair at the side of her face, where was revealed a scarred mess where an eye had once been. "I can't help but feel, if she has been through a tenth of what you've had to endure when you were enslaved…"

"Shhh, no more," she said, as she locked their lips in a passionate kiss.

Inwardly, they both sighed ruefully: it appeared they had little choice for romance as well.

_Historical Notes:_

_(1) Like any large city, Rome had a great deal of fast food shops (not too sure about franchises though), where the Roman on the go could pick up a ready made meal, such as a kind of coarse, unleavened bread called _maza_, which, when flattened and topped with pickled fish, onions and whatever the Romans could think of, became a pastry called _piada_. Sound familiar? (1a)_

_(1a) And on that note: I know this is a bit of a long shot, but if there are any culinary historians out there with an authentic recipe for _picenum_ bread (a kind of bread with dried fruits in it, and flavoured with honey), can you email it to me?_

_(2) To all the urban artists out there, hold your spray cans with pride- the Romans did it too, and now their scribblings are precious moments of human history- for truly, no manner of modern literature could compare with "Romula tarried here with Staphylus" and "If you want to make love, ask for Attice. The price is 16 asses". How we have progressed._

_(3) An actual food found in certain parts of Italy, where it's called Casu Marzu. I can't say exactly where; its production is technically illegal under Italian law, which means I wouldn't tell you where it's found or how to smuggle it out of Italy, even if I knew (and besides, it's nothing you wouldn't otherwise be able to find on Google anyway, baby)._

_It has a somewhat gooey texture, and its pungent taste is (to my tastebuds at least) like that of ordinary cheese, only much, MUCH stronger- it's the sort of food you taste with your spine._

_Whether or not it was actually invented by an enslaved Egyptian boy genius, however, is up to debate._

_(3a) True._

_(4) Ancient beliefs held that the moon had connections with madness and mental illness, which is why the words 'lunar' and 'lunatic' have the same roots in the Latin word Luna- moon._

_(5) I'm not sure if this is the proper way to describe a female gladiator, of just a modern affectation. In any case, I want to remind my readers that you'll fail History if you use this fic as a reference._

_(6) Legend has it that, during the sack of the Greek city of Syracuse in 212 BC by the Romans, Archimedes refused to follow the orders of a Roman soldier and was stabbed to death. The reason for his stubbornness? Ever the mathematician, Archimedes insisted on finishing his sums first._

_Ah, Archimedes- remember that name._

_(7) An interesting note: There have been some tantalizing archaeological clues that, while the Roman Empire might have had only stretched eastward as far as the Middle East, they might have had diplomatic contact with empires much further in that direction- such as the region which would one day be known as China…_

_Just a little historical titbit I thought I'd share; nothing to do with the story._

_(8) In order to counteract the acidity of their wines, Romans would drop a piece of burnt bread into their cups before drinking- which is where we get the term 'toast' from._

_(9) Yes, I was hungry when I wrote this chapter. Bloody near starving in fact, and this section is the result. _

_(10) The vomitorium was a common feature in those houses whose owners liked to have large banquets. If any guests had eaten their fill, yet wished to consume more, they would retire to the vomitorium. There, with the help of slaves they, well, vomited the food they had just eaten. With their stomachs newly emptied, the guest would then be able to go back to the table and start stuffing themselves again._

_And yet, I'm still hungry._

_**UPDATE:** Much to my shame, I have found out that the information presented above is absolutely incorrect (except the hungry part). Let this be a warning to you, budding authors, to never take anything for granted, especially your knowledge. This goes double if you're a self-proclaimed expert on the subject._

_(11) In the tales of Odysseus (Romanized to Ulysses), the great hero has to pass between two clashing cliffs, which he only manages by releasing a dove to cause the cliffs to clash prematurely, and then dashing his boat through as they opened again._


	11. Undecimus

**XI**

"Sneaking off from your own party? Sheesh- you _are_ a barbarian."

Kiminax turned around. The last thing she wanted to see right now was Shiko's arrogant grin, and she said as much, if not more. If the Dacian didn't understand the string of Britannian obscenities, she damned well understood their intent. (1)

"Oooh, naughty, naughty, Kimmie!" the aforementioned Dacian said, waving a nagging finger, a goblet of wine in her other hand. "What would your mother say if she heard you?"

"Look Shiko, no offence," Kiminax said, taking a deep breath. "But I'm not in the mood for a chat right now."

"Like I'd care about that," Shiko said calmly. "So- what happened?"

"Shiko, I told you-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're not in the mood to talk. And I said that I don't care. The way I see it, you can walk away, and apart from getting some real bad corns on your feet be guaranteed of offending half of Rome's most powerful people, including Caesar. You can go back in and join a party you obviously don't want to go to. Or, and here's the good part, you get to spend a whole evening with me! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"…You're not going to quit, are you?"

"Nope!" Shiko said with a wide, obscenely cheerful grin.

"Why?" Kiminax asked. Seeing the bewildered look on Shiko's face, she clarified, "I mean, you seemed to be having fun back there."

"Operative word here being 'seemed', Olive," Shiko grumbled. "Trust me, I hate Romans as much as you do- I'm just better at not showing it." (2)

The mischievous smile returned. "Besides, you kissed me. If that doesn't give me exclusive rights, I don't know what does- or maybe I do-"

"Okay, that's it, hold it right there!" Kiminax said, waving her hands in front of her face.

"Oh, Kimmie, you're so cute when you blush!"

"Shiko!"

"Okay, okay, fine! I'll quit it," Shiko laughed. "So, back to the question…"

Kiminax sighed. "Look, Nero made me an offer I had to refuse. Can we just leave it at that?"

"Nope. So, lemme guess: he wanted you to help him in the Power Play of the Week, right?"

"Something like that, or at least keep myself out of other peoples'," Kiminax admitted.

"Welcome to Rome, kiddo," Shiko replied. "Where every day is an exciting trip through the mountain paths of power- and where people like us end up stepping in nasty, stinky piles of brown stuff, if they're not careful."

"Ew."

"What can I say? I have a working imagination," Shiko said calmly, sipping her drink. "He won't be the last, you know- there'll be others."

She laughed. "It's all your fault, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, didn't you hear the applause? The people of Rome love you! Anyone who's anyone knows you're the person to go to if they want the people behind them! And don't go thinking that blowing off Caesar's gonna help, Princess. That'll only encourage them, make 'em think you're their best ticket to take over-"

"Why are you telling me this, Shiko?"

"What?" Shiko asked, momentarily thrown off her stride.

Kiminax caught Shiko's gaze. "Like I said- why the tip-off? You don't have to help me, you know."

"Hey, if you don't want my help…" Shiko shrugged, turning back to the villa-

-when she felt someone's hand grab her own.

"Sorry," Kiminax said quietly. "It's just that, well, there shouldn't be any reason you should be helping me. At least, no reason I could see."

Shiko looked a Kiminax for a moment, then sighed. "Look, I'll admit I'm not exactly doing this out of the goodness of my heart, either. You been listening to the high-class gossip lately?"

"Can't. Gladiator school, remember?"

"Well, anyway, the general view is that we're just to good to be killed off just like that, you know," Shiko said, snapping her fingers. "We're just too popular, like I said."

"I thought you said I was the popular one," Kiminax said with a small smile.

"Smartass," Shiko replied, and neither she nor Shiko noticed that the grin the Dacian gave in return was involuntary. "Anyway, the problem is that they'll only keep us alive so long as we're useful. As soon as you become useful to someone, you become less of a target, and the person you're connected you becomes a bigger one. And if you play your cards right, even if your patron croaks, you'll still get on the winner's good side- what?"

"It's… it's horrible," Kiminax said, with an equally horrified grimace.

"It's reality, especially if you're going to be living in Rome," Shiko insisted. "Emphasis on 'living', Kimmie. And that doesn't just go for you, it's the same for your parents and your brothers."

"What?" Kiminax said, shocked. "Brothers? My-"

"See what having connections could do?" Shiko smirked. "Like I was saying- you keep yourself useful, backup the right guys, and you can be sure they'll keep your family safe."

"I don't want us to be safe- I want us to be free."

"Yeah, free- free to be hunted down by the Romans, that's what," Shiko scowled.

"I have to try," Kiminax said with quiet determination. "I'd rather be dead than a slave."

Shiko looked at Kiminax incredulously, and sighed, her head turned downwards. "Yeah, I used to think that," she whispered, and Kiminax was both surprised and distressed to see that the Dacian was crying.

"Shiko-?" she began, when Shiko suddenly looked up.

"You want to hear a story?" she asked, and without waiting for Kiminax's answer, she began.

(scene change)

It seemed far away enough in the desert of time to gain the quality of distant memory, yet close enough to cut as deeply as it did then.

Her name was Julia Agrippina, and she was the mother of the soon-to-be Emperor Nero. Shiko was young then- a few years younger than the future Nero Caesar in fact, and she loved Agrippina.

It wasn't the love a woman might bear a man, she quickly explained to a blushing Kiminax, but as a daughter to a mother. Shiko had never really been as close to her natural mother as Kiminax was to her own, so slavery to one of Nero's closest friends wasn't as painful as she had initially thought it would be- far from it.

That wasn't to say that Agrippina was a nice person- not by a long shot. Before Nero's rise to power she had openly committed incest with Caligula Caesar, her brother, and prostituted herself to prominent members of her brother's court to solidify her power.

Even after she was exiled by her own brother, she clawed her way back to the top: first, by marrying a wealthy landowner and ex-Consul named Gaius Sallustius Passienus Crispus ("Roman names- ain't they a blast?" Shiko commented) and then poisoning him to gain control of his assets, and then marrying the man who put her into that marriage, her uncle Claudius Caesar, Caligula's successor- whom she also poisoned to make way for her son, Nero. (3)

Shiko got to know Agrippina a few years before Nero came to the throne. She had heard all the stories about the much older woman, and when she faced the dour, imperious woman for the first time, she was terrified. It was only later that she found herself nestled firmly in Agrippina's good side.

"I have spent so long being a mother of a future Caesar," she had whispered to Shiko one day, as the young Dacian lay half-asleep in her arms, "that I had forgotten the simple joys of being a mere mother."

"What, you mean hours of painful labour, changing his dirty loincloth, that sort of thing? Joy all day long, I can see."

"Oh hush!" Agrippina laughed. "Such a sharp tongue for one so young!"

"I spend practically every day with you- I have to learn something," Shiko said, eyes half closed.

"One wonders about that, Shiko- you are, after all, Dracus's slave."

"Ugh, don't remind me. All he seems to do is hang on to your son's cape all day," Shiko said, referring to the way Dracus fawned over his friend.

"How is my son, by the way?"

"Hmm?" Shiko murmured, yawning as she awoke. "Oh, yeah, your son? Same as ever, I guess, Mistress. More dirty tricks than a Gallic fox."

Agrippina laughed. "Of course; I had taught him well. Perhaps too well…"

"Mistress?"

"Oh, nothing," Agrippina assured the young girl. "Just thinking aloud. Go back to sleep. I wish a few more moments of peace with you before I have to return you to Dracus."

"As you wish, Mistress," Shiko replied, closing her eyes.

The next day, Rome was awash with talk that Britannicus, son of Claudius Caesar, was dead. His father was very popular, and by extension, that made Britannicus popular. All of Rome was thusly awash with rumours that the fourteen year old had been assassinated by Nero, despite Nero's dismissive statements that it was an epileptic fit.

Shiko, however, knew they weren't rumours- she had acted as the go-between between Nero and the poisoner, a cruel woman by the name of Locusta. (4)

"It was a wise decision," Agrippina told Shiko sternly, when the young Dacian had run back to her in tears. "My son was simply ensuring that there would be no threats to his future reign."

"But he was just a boy!" Shiko wailed.

"Did you love him?"

"What? No! At least, not like what I think you're saying!" Shiko replied. "We were friends, yeah, but that was all!"

"Then it should be of no consequence," Agrippina said, when she suddenly turned around and grabbed Shiko by the arms. "Listen to me, Shiko! If I have taught you anything, anything of worth, let it be this: Survive!"

"What?"

"Survive, Shiko! In Rome, there can be no other goal. Not power, not wealth, for all those are simply means of survival. No matter what happens, the result must be the same- our own survival."

Shiko looked to the older woman in quiet despair. "So… you would have me killed, if it meant your survival?"

Agrippina caught Shiko's gaze, a sad smile playing across her features. "No, my dear Shiko," she said quietly. "You are my child, even more so than any my own womb has borne- and what mother would harm her child?"

"I don't believe you," Shiko said quietly.

"You shouldn't," Agrippina said. Shiko couldn't really tell, but she thought she heard a note of pride in the older woman's voice.

The attempt came a short while later. Shiko wasn't there in person, but she had sources, and it helped that slaves, even ones as distinctive as she was, were generally more invisible than furniture.

Agrippina was apparently onboard a ship when it sank, and was rescued by locals after she swam to shore. A normally frequent though tragic occurrence, everyone else thought, but Shiko knew better. She had her suspicions, which were confirmed one night as she was sneaking through Nero's villa, and she overheard him yelling angrily at the assassins he had hired. (5)

"You must do something, Mistress!" Shiko had told Agrippina later, as the aged woman was recuperating in her bed in her estate outside Rome.

"I cannot," Nero's mother replied. "You saw what happened with the Armenian Ambassador- Nero has too many powerful friends. I cannot move against him, no matter how much I wanted to." She let out a short laugh. "You might even say I deserve it." (6)

"How?" Shiko demanded hotly. "I mean, sure, you've done some bad things, but-"

"I don't mean it is retribution from the Gods, at least, not wholly," Agrippina said, "but if anything, my own arrogance, and my own mistakes in allowing my feelings as a mother to cloud my political judgement."

"Huh?"

Agrippina then told Shiko about the woman Nero had set his sights upon as a new wife- Poppea, the current wife of his fellow general and good friend Otho. When Agrippina learned of Nero's intention to take Poppea as a wife, she lost her mind.

"I was afraid, Shiko- afraid that she would use my son as nothing more than a feast to whet her appetite for power," Agrippina said, before letting out a bitter laugh. "She reminded me too much of myself, you see."

"…so what are you going to do now?" Shiko asked quietly.

"What else could I do? Stay here, of course, and wait for the-"

"No!" Shiko exploded as she leapt up, angry tears coming down her face. "You can't-"

"Know your place, slave!" Agrippina replied harshly.

Shiko looked at the other woman in incredulous shock, then grinned. "You're not fooling anyone, old woman," she grinned. "Least of all me."

Agrippina looked like she was going to explode herself, then sighed. "I wish I was," she said softly. "You know why, don't you, Shiko?"

"I'm in danger as long as I stay with you, right?"

Agrippina nodded. "You know far too much than a slave should, you know. Britannicus's assassination, the attempt on my own life- you hide too many secrets beneath your pale skin, Shiko. Far too many to be harmless. You are in a great deal more danger than even I could imagine."

But unfortunately, Agrippina was wrong- it wasn't just Shiko who was in danger.

"You wished to see me, Master?" Shiko asked the next day at Nero's villa, as she knelt before the young, but already somewhat pudgy Caesar. (7)

"Why yes, my dear Shiko. I understand you are close to my mother?" he asked, smiling gently.

Shiko looked up, her emerald eyes staring directly into Nero's own. "Yes, I am, and I know what you're going to ask."

"You do, do you?" Nero said easily. "You, all of you: out!" he commanded, gesturing to his retinue. "Don't even _think_ about questioning my orders," he said in a threatening whisper to one guard who had opened his mouth to protest. "Now that we are all alone," he said with a predatory smile, "we can-"

"I can tell you to shut the Hades up and leave your mother alone!" Shiko demanded hotly.

"My, my, how Mother spoiled you," Nero laughed. "Didn't she teach you anything? What with you being so close and all."

"Is that what this is about?" Shiko sneered. "You jealous of all the time I spend with Mommy?"

"Hardly," Nero sniffed. "In fact, my problem is that 'Mommy' has any time to spend with you at all."

As the full import of what Nero was saying sank in, Shiko's eyes narrowed. "Listen here, you-" she began, but what Nero said next stopped her cold.

"You have four brothers, I see," he said, taking a small slip of parchment from his drawer. "Hiko, Miko, and twins so closely connected they call themselves by the single name Wiko," he said, reading from the parchment. "Oh, don't look at me like that," he said, seeing the look of shock on her face. "I am Caesar, you know. Caesar in all but official name- which means I have more information passing through my hands than I have uses for."

His smile turned into a vicious smirk. "This isn't one of those pieces of information, to be sure."

"They're- they're still alive?" Shiko gasped, feeling faint.

"Oh yes, they're _still _alive," Nero told her, the implications unmistakeable.

"You let them go or I'll-"

"My guards will be in here faster than you think," Nero said easily. "Your skills, as I understand them, extend to stealth and subterfuge- not combat. You'll be cut down."

"Yeah, but at least I'll take you with me."

"Oh, but my dear Shiko, have you forgotten so easily about your brothers? Trust me, if I do not leave this room the same way I entered, your brothers will be the first casualties of the civil war to follow."

That stopped Shiko in her tracks. "What… what do you want?" Shiko asked, although she already knew and dreaded the answer.

And Nero could see it. "Why, my dear," he said, obviously enjoying himself, "I think we both know what I want."

"Please…" Shiko said as she dropped to her knees, the only time in her life she had ever begged, "please, great Caesar, please don't do this! I beg of you, spare your mother's life! She is of no threat to you-"

"Shows you how little you know of politics," Nero scoffed. "She knew enough of placing me on the throne, she knows enough of taking me off. Now, will you do it or not?"

Shiko looked up at Nero, his entire self radiating cruel enjoyment. "Please… don't…"

"Here, let me make it easier for you," Nero replied. "First of all, she's going to die anyway, whether or not I make it to the throne- she _is_ my mother after all. Secondly, if you do not agree to do this for me, then your brothers die- and in the end, what's more important? Four lives as compared to one? Real family, as opposed to fake family?"

"…why me? Why me, you Roman bastard?" Shiko wept.

Nero didn't answer at first. Instead, he picked up a small hand mirror, and held it up in front of Shiko.

"A lot of reasons," he said, "but I think I like this one best. Now, my men will be waiting for you outside, with your sword…"

Shiko's memories of the travel to Agrippina's estate were blurred, hazy, inconsequential. In contrast, her memory of what happened later were crystal clear. Shiko told Kiminax that, had she had her way, it would have been the other way around.

"She's inside this room," Shiko said to the men who had accompanied her into the estate. "Stay here."

"Like we're going to do that," one of the men scoffed. "We know all about you and the old lady, and we have orders-"

"I know damned well what your orders are," Shiko snarled. "If you want to make a move, go ahead. I guarantee at least one of you will die."

The men looked at her angrily, but backed off. "If you don't pull through-"

"Shut up," Shiko said, and opened the door. "Mistress?" she asked, closing the door behind her. "Mistress?" she called again. The curtains drawn, the room seemed far darker than before.

"Shiko? Shiko, is that you?" a voice called out from back of the room, where the bed could be faintly seen.

"Yes, Mistress, it's me," Shiko said, her voice breaking. "I… I…"

"I know why you're here; it's not so hard to figure out. The men with you are not as, shall we say, _discreet_ as you are," Agrippina said. "Come here, Shiko," she continued, her beckoning hand barely visible in the dark.

As Shiko knelt down beside Agrippina's bed, she felt the tears return. "I'm sorry, Mistress, I'm so sorry," she said in a croaking whisper.

"My son, he has put you up to this," Agrippina said. It wasn't a question.

"Please, Mistress, forgive me, but-"

"Hush, my dear, hush," Agrippina said, gently stroking Shiko's hair. "You need not justify anything to me. I know you, Shiko. I know how strong you can be, and how defiant you are. Whatever my son must have threatened you with, it is more than worth the life of a tired old woman."

"Please, Mistress, don't say that," Shiko said quietly.

"I'm dying, Shiko. I have the right to say anything I want."

"Mistress please- what? What did you say?"

"I'm dying, Shiko," Agrippina said, taking out a small vial from under her pillow. "It is a slow acting poison, a weaker version of what I used to kill Claudius. I had thought to personally curse my son with my dying breath." She gave a small grin. "To think, that he would stoop so low as to send you… hah, I guess I have underestimated my son for the last time…"

"…would you like me to fetch you some water, Mistress?" Shiko whispered. It was all she could think of. "Or some wine… make you feel better…"

"No, Shiko, none of that. I doubt you'd have enough time anyway," Agrippina said. "Just… just promise me one thing, Shiko…"

"What, Mistress?" Shiko asked quietly.

"After I have died, Shiko, I want you to take that sword of yours, and plunge it into my womb."

"Mistress-" Shiko began in shock.

"Plunge it into my womb. Destroy it, that thing where my most loathsome desires were formed. Where was born both my son, and the acts which have brought us all here. The acts which have brought you, my daughter, all this pain."

"Daughter?" Shiko whispered.

"Of course, Shiko," Agrippina said. "You are the child I always wanted, but knew I could never have, my most beloved… daughter…" Agrippina said, her breath coming in shorts gasps now.

"Mistress? Mistress!" Shiko said, grasping Agrippina desperately.

"I love you, my dear, dear, Shiko…" Agrippina said, as she breathed her last.

"…I love you, mother…" Shiko whispered. "Forgive me…"

And that was when the tears really came.

Shiko didn't know how long she spent crying over Agrippina's body. All she remembered next was the impatient pounding on the door, accompanied by threats of what would happen if the door didn't open _right now_. Shiko stood up, and with one steady motion, plunged her blade into Agrippina. Once. Twice. Again and again.

Outside, the men were getting impatient. "For all we know, she's escaped with the old woman. I say we break it down now."

"You know, that sounds like a- huh, took you long enough," the one in front of the door said as it swung open to reveal Shiko, her arms soaked in blood.

"It's done," she said in a flat tone. "She's dead."

"Yeah? I'll just go check then, okay? Who knows what tricks you two cooked up."

"Fine."

She stood there, still and unblinking for a few moments, when the man came out. "Heh," he said with a wide grin. "She's right! The slave actually did it! Who'd a thunk it? She gutted the old bitch like a-"

For one shocked moment, the echo of the man's head hitting the floor was the only sound in the narrow passageway. "She wasn't a bitch," Shiko whispered quietly, her arms trembling.

The other men took in the sight; then, as a man, they rushed Shiko.

"Ah, there you are, my dear," Nero said cheerfully from his horse outside the estate, seemingly ignoring the defensive circle his bodyguards had formed up around him when they saw the blood-drenched Dacian emerge from the house. "I trust everything went along well?"

"Your mother is dead, as you had ordered, great Caesar," Shiko replied woodenly.

"Oh, no need to be so formal, my dear- after all, you've done me a great service," Nero laughed. "And would I be correct in assuming that one or more of my men were, shall we say, indelicate in their handling of the situation?"

Shiko didn't answer.

"Oh, very well then, have it your way." He took a pack off his horse. "They were an embarrassment to me anyway- their behaviour was not the sort of thing I'd like to have associated with me. You there!" he called to one of his men. "Give this to her."

As the man fearfully approached Shiko, she fixed her gaze on Nero. "What's this?" she asked, a tinge of anger starting to enter her voice.

"Well, I had anticipated that things would get rather messy, and so I took the precaution of preparing some extra clothes," he said, as Shiko took the pack. "Now if you'll excuse us, we'll be off. I'll leave my ex-employees' horses here; you may take all of them as your master's own."

And with that, his remaining men mounted their horses, and they rode off. Shiko opened her pack.

In it was a suit of green and black leather armour. (8)

(scene change)

They sat in silence for a few moments, while the sounds and smells of the party drifted over to them. Kiminax wanted to say something, anything, but what? What could she possibly say that-

"You know how long it takes to make a suit of good leather armour?" Shiko asked suddenly. "Weeks. It takes even the best smiths weeks to make an average suit of leather armour."

"Shiko, are you saying-"

"What I'm saying," Shiko continued, "is that you should get yourself some political support. That's all." She moved to stand up.

"Shiko-" Kiminax began.

"Save me the pity, Kiminax," Shiko said, and her usage of Kiminax's full name felt like a slap to the Britannian. "I did what I had to do, she did what she had to do, and the same goes for Nero. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sneak into Dracus's wine cellar and get myself very, very drunk."

And Kiminax could only stand and watch as Shiko walked away.

_Historical Notes:_

_(1) Well, she is Britannian, after all. I realize now that I didn't really provide any explanation as to why she is able to speak Latin. Umm… she's a bit of a Mary Sue in the regular show, after all. Yes, let's go with that excuse._

_(2) Pumpkins weren't introduced to Europe until the New World was found, and brought back from the Americas, with seeds from related plants being found in Mexico and dating back to 7000 BC._

_(3) As far as I know, this highly abridged history of Julia Agrippina (better known as Agrippina the Younger, as opposed to her mother Julia Vispania Agrippina, or Agrippina the Elder) is accurate. Her personality as is depicted here, however, is HIGHLY fictional, as my own research has told me she was a tyrant on the level of Messalina and Livia- other fatal females (joke intended and not apologized for) of Ancient Rome._

_(4) Locusta was a professional poisoner, and is infamous for perhaps being the first serial killer ever documented in Western Civilization (the first documented case being Liu Pengli, cousin of the Chinese Han Emperor Jing), let alone the first female._

_(5) There were actually four attempts on Agrippina's life, of which the ship sinking was one of them._

_(6) One of the signs that perhaps Agrippina's power was fading was when she tried to sit next to her son as he was receiving an envoy from Armenia, and his tutor, the fabled writer Seneca (whom she herself had brought out of exile) stopped her._

_(7) Nero was only seventeen when he became Caesar, and twenty-two when he assassinated his mother. A game of Happy Families, Roman royalty wasn't._

_(8) This is a highly dramatized account of Agrippina's assassination, but the account of her asking her killers to plunge their blades into her womb, the womb that had born her true murderer, is an existing legend._

_Author's notes:_

_First of all, I had never ever anticipated that in the course of writing this fic, I'd be researching the history of pumpkins._

_Second, I want to apologize to my readers about presenting the vomitorium as fact. A corrected version of the chapter has been uploaded with this one._

_Thirdly, the political incidents on which I have drawn are all accurate as far as my research tells me, so the next time someone tells you about how dirty modern politics are, just remember good ol' Rome._


	12. Duodecimus

It was early morning, and Vespasian was, to put it mildly, both quite pleased- and very, very perplexed.

The source of his pleasure was simple; the first part of his self-appointed mission had gone quite, quite well, even though he hadn't even got past step one of his plan- namely to somehow get Dracus alone, preferably drunk, and gently question him. He didn't have to; Vespasian did not rise to the position of the head of the Arcani by being unable to read people, and Dracus was an open scroll.

One with an author who couldn't spell. And had terrible penmanship. One who had also made a terrible choice regarding ink. And probably baths, for that matter.

Vespasian shook his head, and stared at his drink in exasperated, yet begrudging admittance. _Man has fine taste in wines_, he thought.

But apart from the general's taste in wines, the rest didn't add up to what Vespasian knew, which was why Vespasian was sure that, sober or otherwise, he would have been perplexed- Dracus was no mover, no shaker. He could plan, and he could scheme, but you couldn't throw a discus around Rome without hitting someone who was scheming for power (Gods knew Vespasian was tempted), and in that respect, Dracus was no different.

Which begged the question- who was handling his operation? From what Vespasian and his agents had turned up, Dracus was supposed to be the hub of something big, something threatening the stability of the Empire- but judging by the forced smiles of some of the guests, and the late refills for the food, Dracus couldn't even plan a party.

So now Vespasian found himself wondering- who would be competent enough to have handled all of Dracus's affairs for him, and yet remained loyal or afraid enough of Dracus (both unlikely concepts, but at this point, Vespasian was prepared to consider almost anything) to do so without ambition taking over?

There was, of course, a far more disturbing thought; someone was using Dracus, not just as a figurehead, but as a target, a distraction to ward off anyone looking for signs of a conspiracy- _exempli gratia_, people like the head of the Arcani.

But who?

Now _that_ was the million-sesterce question.

(scene change)

"Where am I, and why am I wearing a chicken?"

With a groan, Shiko plucked the offended bird off her head and threw it upwards, where it promptly bumped its head on the cellar ceiling and thumped onto the ground.

"That... doesn't really help at all, you know," Shiko said, staring at the unconscious bird with bleary eyes (1). She blinked a few times, and pulled an egg off her head, before giving the chicken a speculative look.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm!" Dracus said as he came down the stairs. "What is that delicious smell?"

"My breakfast," Shiko replied flatly. "Roast chicken and a half-boiled egg. Again, let me repeat: _my_ breakfast."

"Well, what about my breakfast?" Dracus asked; he thought it was a reasonable question.

"I dunno- I guess you can make soup or something," Shiko grumbled, pointing to a bucket of chicken entrails and vegetable peelings.

"Soup? I am Dracus Maximus! General of the Roman Empire, and favoured of the Emperor himself! I'll have you know that I will not tolerate this kind of insolence-"

He suddenly found himself seized by the front of his shirt. "Dracus," Shiko said in a gentle tone of voice, "I am, at the moment, hung over, and my body aches all over. My head feels like the Aegean Stables, and my stomach feels like something Curtius would buy a ticket to ride into- so shut up and make your damn soup before I plant my foot so far up your rear you end up picking bits off my sandal out of your nose, okay?" (2)

"You know what?" Dracus said after a few moments. "I think I'll have some soup. Soup sounds good. I'd like soup. Soup is nice. I want soup."

"Good. Besides," she added. "You owe me, owe me big."

"Well, I guess so," Dracus replied begrudgingly.

"Nice to see we understand each other."

As Shiko stomped off to the dining room, a thought occurred to Dracus. "Wait, Shiko- you're hungover? You? Hungover?! How much did you drink?"

(scene change)

"Hey, Kim, you hear that?" Ronnicus asked, glancing up.

"Hear what?" Kiminax asked, wiping the sweat from her brow, droplets spilling from her hand onto the dusty soil of the training ground. It was a hot day, even for Latium; every cell in Kiminax's Britannian body hated it, and she was grateful for any distraction. (3)

"Sounded like a scream," he said. "Wonder what that was all about?"

"I know what it wasn't about- training! I'm not paying you guys to sit around and talk!" Barcus yelled.

"But Master Barcus, you _don't_ pay us," Ronnicus replied.

"Don't try to confuse me with logic, Stoppable!"

"Yes sir."

"And what's the matter with you, Miss Kiminax? A little too much to drink last night? Biscotting with the nobility leaving you too proud to be a gladiator? Shape up or ship out, Kiminax!" Barcus yelled before stomping off. (4)

"Man, what was his problem?" Ronnicus asked, scratching his head.

"Bad hangover," Rufus said sagely from his place in Ronnicus's pocket.

"You sure about that, little buddy?" Ronnicus asked. "I don't think Master Barcus went to the party last night."

"Mmm-hmm," Rufus replied.

"Oh _riiight_," Ronnicus replied as understanding dawned. "So..." Ronnicus began, picking up his wooden sword, "did you?"

"Did I what?" Kiminax asked.

"You know, have one little sip too many, that kind of thing? I mean, I'm not jealous, or anything-"

"Trust me, you didn't miss anything."

"Really?"

Kiminax looked at Ron; there was something in the tone of his voice, and she was flattered (and not a bit embarrassed) to see that it was concern. "Don't worry, Ron," she lied, though not knowing why (at least not consciously). "The Romans can boast all they want, but their parties suck."

Ronnicus swung his wooden sword at her. "Man, not you too, Kim."

"Wha-?" Kiminax began, blocking his blow.

"I mean, everyone here thinks I'm stupid, you know? Like I don't know what's going on," Ronnicus pouted. "Come on, give the Ronster some credit here!"

"Ron, I don't think you're stupid," Kiminax replied, parrying another one of Ron's attacks.

"Nah, don't worry about it, Kim," Ronnicus replied. "I was just kidding- but I am Roman, Kim. I know how things work here, and that's why I know that when a gladiator's invited to a banquet, it's not because the bronze want the conversation." (5)

"Ronnicus, relax," Kiminax said with feigned ease. "Nothing happened last night; to tell the truth, I was kinda bored, actually."

"Really?" Ronnicus asked, surprised. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

"Yeah…" Kiminax began, unaware of the man watching unseen from the shadows of a nearby building, the real reason for Barcus's anxiety.

"You want anything else to drink, sir?" Moneek asked, bearing a jug of wine.

"No, not thank you," Vespasian answered kindly, his mind still on the previous night's performance, his eyes still on Kiminax, and judging by the way she moved, the way the distracted look came over her face when she thought nobody was watching or paying attention, she was remembering the same thing he was…

(scene change)

The sounds of Dracus's party behind her continuing unabated, Kiminax wondered if she should just pack up and leave; it didn't sound as if she would be missed- hells, she wondered if anybody even paid attention to her arrival in the first place, the Roman Dracus's expectations notwithstanding.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the better it sounded; after Shiko's previous confession

"There she is."

Kiminax turned to the sound of the gruff voices. Two Roman soldiers, clad in gilt armour and purple capes, stood before her, one of them pointing at the Britannian. "Caesar requests your presence at the feast. I suggest you do not disappoint him."

Seeing the look of quiet arrogance the soldier was giving her, Kiminax found herself remembering Shiko's words, and fire ran through her veins. For all she knew, this man was one of the soldiers Nero took with him to ensure that Shiko would carry out Agrippa's assassination, but what really angered the young woman was the thought that she would have to meet the loathsome man himself.

"Well?" the soldier asked again.

Kiminax met his gaze for a moment before standing up, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Let's go."

The dining hall was as she had remembered- then she took a closer look. A few of the guests, both male and female, were looking at her with anticipation, and those that didn't soon found their attentions drawn to her by those who did.

Nero's seat was turned to Kiminax, but no sooner than one of the soldiers stepped forward, the Caesar raised his hand. "You know where to take her," he said dismissively, waving casually, and the soldiers nodded.

"Come with us," one of them told Kiminax, and took her to the middle of the room, between the dining tables.

"Where is the other slave?" Nero asked, not bothering to stifle his yawn.

"She is being brought up as we speak," the soldier who spoke before said, before turning to Kiminax. "Where are your weapons?"

"Weapons?" Kiminax asked, momentarily befuddled. "I don't have any-"

And then understanding dawned. Oh no, she thought, please, anything but-

"Two swords, or one?" the soldier asked, before Nero interrupted.

"If she performed as well as she did with but one blade," he said, with just enough of a leer to indicate what constituted his idea of 'performance', "who knows the kind of entertainment we might get with two?"

The soldiers nodded, unsheathing and handing Kiminax their blades.

"No."

The whole room fell silent at Kiminax's outburst, except for Dracus, who made various squeaking noises. Apart from Kiminax, only Nero and his bodyguard seemed unfazed. "Praetorian," he said to one of the soldiers, "leave your sword with your friend and come here."

Nero then whispered something in the soldier's ear. The Praetorian nodded, then left the room, while Nero picked up a goblet from the table and looked at Kiminax.

"You do know that that kind of refusal doesn't really carry weight with me?" he asked genially, sipping his wine.

"It should- that is, if you want a fight," Kiminax replied, and a silent gasp seemed to ripple through the room. Even the Praetorian next to her raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, good one!" Nero laughed. "However, the two of us aren't the only ones who have a say in the matter- after all, there is that other lady to consider."

"She won't agree to this," Kiminax replied.

"Yes she will! Yes she will!" Dracus replied hastily, desperately. He pushed back his seat and made to stand up when Nero held up a hand.

"No need to trouble yourself, Dracus," Nero said, smiling a smile that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes that were still fixed on Kiminax. "Has it occurred to you, Britannian- oh, that reminds me, could you tell me your name? It's so rude to simply refer to one by one's nationality instead of name."

"Britannian is fine."

"As you wish- Kiminax," Nero said, grinning slightly at the momentary look of shock that passed over Kiminax's face. "Let me guess- our favourite pale-skinned Dacian told you a few horror stories about good ol' Nero Caesar, is that it? Of course, that's it. Don't worry, I'm not angry, it's a perfectly honourable thing to do, refusing to fight for a tyrant."

He leaned back in his seat. "The thing is, a person's honour means nothing when you know their price. And rest assured, sooner or later I'm going to find yours, as I know Shiko's."

"Really?"

Everyone in the room shot Dracus annoyed looks, and the pale blue Roman sank back into his seat. "Er, never mind me," he blubbered, and all eyes turned back to the face-off between Nero and Kiminax.

"He's got a point," Kiminax said. "Shiko doesn't have a price; she doesn't have anything to lose, not even her life."

Her eyes narrowed in barely-controlled fury. "You made sure of that."

"Oh, you're right- mostly," Nero said. "I have taken a great deal away from Shiko, but not everything- and who knows? Given enough time, she might find something else that matters, something she cares about losing."

He leaned to one side, looking past Kiminax. "And speak of Thanatos!" he grinned.

"Sorry I took so long- girl can't afford to be underdressed, you know," Shiko said from the doorway, fully clad in the leather armour and wielding her twin torches. "Yo, these torches ain't gonna light themselves, you know!" she said to the Praetorian who had gone to fetch her. He nodded, and used one of the torches lined along the wall to light Shiko's.

"Shiko?" Kiminax asked incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"Duh, what's it look like I'm doing?" Shiko snorted. "I'm getting ready to kick your butt all that way back to the sticks, Kimmie," she snorted, to general applause. "Nothing personal," she added on a tone of cocky malice."

"I would suggest you take up your blades now," Nero said calmly, and Kiminax only just narrowly blocked Shiko's twin torches, and it was those same split-second reflexes that made her jump backwards just in time to avoid the kick Shiko had aimed towards her midsection.

And in the green glow of Shiko's torches, as the musicians started playing a fast-paced, almost jaunty tune, Kiminax felt her mind automatically focus itself on the fight, pushing aside the barrage of questions that threatened to overwhelm it. She braced herself for another attack, but to her surprise Shiko didn't press the advantage she had, instead using the lull caused by Kiminax's uncertainty to grandstand, twirling her torches to the cheers of the Roman crowd.

And by the way she looked back at them appreciatively, the feeling was mutual.

Kiminax felt her lip turn up in a small snarl, not just of anger, but also of betrayal, and it was only later, much, much later, that she managed to figure out why; just a few moments before, when Shiko had been telling her about what had happened to her, Kiminax felt not just sympathy, but kinship as well- though Ronnicus had suffered, at least his parents were still alive, at least he still had something to lose- or rather, something worth losing, unlike Shiko or Kiminax.

But for one moment in the torchlight of the dining room, Kiminax didn't see Shiko smiling back at the Romans, she saw a Britannian girl, braids of copper-red hair falling on her shoulders, emerald-green eyes mocking her.

In that one moment, Kiminax saw something that there were worse fates than defeat- better by far to lose all hope, to have all thoughts of resistance shattered, than for what she saw had happened to Shiko.

Acceptance.

Kiminax didn't remember what happened next, but Shiko never would forget. "What was that you said, Kimmie?" she mocked, hearing Kiminax whisper something.

Then Kiminax met the Dacian's gaze, and for the first time that night, Shiko wondered if she had pushed Kiminax too far. The next moment, she knew she had.

"Not me," Kiminax whispered in her native Britannian. "Not me!" she yelled, launching herself at Shiko, holding the heavy Roman blades in her hands like daggers. Later, Shiko would wonder if she was the only one in the room to notice the tears running down Kiminax's cheeks. But for now, it was all she could do to avoid the flurry of blows Kiminax was raining down upon her.

With another angry roar, Kiminax lunged herself forward again, blades held high, only to realize too late that considering Shiko's speed and reflexes, all she did was open her midsection to attack, and Kiminax braced herself for the burning pain she would feel all too briefly-

-and which never came. Instead of pressing the attack, Shiko instead leapt backward and jumped off a table to land behind a bewildered Kiminax, and the Britannian saw she wasn't the only one who had noticed; several guests were shouting sarcastic remarks at the Dacian, mocking her for not taking her chance.

Shiko didn't seem to hear them however; she looked as calmly mocking as she did when the fight began, and once more took the initiative. This time, however, Kiminax held the anger in check, and noticed something else- though Shiko would seem just as bloodthirsty as ever to the casual observer, her attacks were just slow enough, and clumsily executed, with a noticeable tensing muscle here, a whispered snarl there, that Kiminax could easily anticipate them. Sure, they then came as hard and as fast as Kiminax would expect from Shiko, but forewarned, Kiminax found it no great difficulty to defend herself.

A small smile passed over Kiminax's face. She bent backward a bit and tensed up, hoping that Shiko would notice, before kicking toward Shiko. Much to her relief, Shiko jumped away just in time, and when she next met Kiminax's gaze, the Dacian's grin was wider, but no longer mocking.

And now it was Kiminax's turn to grandstand, flipping the blades in her hands as she leapt and bounded across the dining room to meet Shiko. In response, Shiko twirled her own torches in her hands, and only attacked with a two broad strokes of her troches when Kiminax landed in front of her. For one moment, Shiko's blood ran cold, and her eyes opened wide when she noticed that Kiminax wasn't going to jump away as she had expected.

Her eyes opened even wider when she noticed Kiminax no longer standing in front of her. Instead, the Britannian had splayed her legs out flat on the floor, her back bent almost backwards to avoid the swinging green flame, and Shiko marveled that the petite redhead had not split herself in two with the motion.

In one more fluid motion Kiminax leapt upwards, bringing her fists upwards so that even if anything went wrong, the only thing making contact with Shiko would be the butts of her Roman blades.

She needn't have worried. Shiko was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, Kiminax found herself being seized from behind, one arm around her throat, another around her waist.

"Well," Shiko said in a husky voice, her smile naughty, her eyes wicked. "Are you not entertained?"

And as one, the room erupted in a cheer. Nero was clapping, and even the dour Praetorian who gave Kiminax his swords and who was now holding the twin torches Shiko had handed him was grinning widely.

Sitting at his corner of the table, Vespasian was the only man whose outward appearance did not match his inner self. Nero was happy, and Vespasian knew that when Nero smiled, others would soon cry.

_Historical Notes:_

_(1) I seem to recall reading somewhere that chickens were used as fortune-telling animals by the Romans, but as to the how of it I can't remember, sorry. Maybe something to do with entrails? 90 of the time it's something to do with the entrails. Also, 67.35 of statistics are made up on the spot._

_(2) Sometime around 363 BC, a massive hole was said to have opened up in the middle of Rome, threatening to swallow up the city. Augurs said that it was because the Romans had failed to honour their dead properly, and that only a noble sacrifice would save them. A nobleman named Curtius, famed for being one of the few people worthy of being called 'noble', then rode into the pit, which closed up behind him._

_(3) Latium: Ye Olde Romanne name for the place where they (the Latin people) came from, now modern-day Lazio._

_(4) For those of you who didn't know, a hobnob is a British biscuit (biscotti in Italian), and to go 'hobnobbing' is to ingratiate oneself with a higher social class. Get it? It's a kind of pun! _

_Well, I thought it was funny._

_(5) Brass was known to the ancient Romans, but bronze had more obvious military applications._


	13. Tridecimus

**XIII**

Alexandria, Egypt, 60 B.C.

The Arcani agent, in the guise of just another one of the investigating prefects, looked around the ruined workshop. He was grateful for the cover the roof gave him; outside, the Alexandrian afternoon sun blazed (1). He thought he'd have gotten used to the heat by now, but it had been almost a decade, and he still found himself sweating like a Gaul in the Egyptian sun.

He shook his head, and motioned to the servant outside to bring him more water. As the Egyptian ran off, the Arcanus's eye moved across the room. Most of the mess was fairly expected; after all, you do not keep a secret watch on a person for a few years and not learn a few of his habits. It was just this Arcanus's bad luck to be on his official duty when his target was captured.

He sighed with exasperation as he remembered the night the inventor Hero was captured; some mad Christian came into the city square and started rambling about his religion (2), thereby inciting the local peasants to almost start a riot that the Romans barely contained. The Arcanus didn't have anything against Christians, Jupiter knew, but when they caused public disturbances that got in the way of his job, he could see the mob's point.

He shook his head; he had better things to do than to worry about some passing fad of a religion, especially since nothing seemed to have been stolen- oh no.

It couldn't be- of all the things-

Despite the charring heat outside, the blood in the Arcanus's veins ran cold. He frantically looked around the house uncaring of whether or not he was destroying evidence in doing so. In the process of doing so, he found his worst fears realized; it wasn't here. He didn't know who had stolen it, but they obviously knew what they were doing- an advantage that was supposed to be the Arcani's and Arcani's alone.

(scene change)

"Uh, one Maximus Magna, two roasted garlics, hold the garum-"(3)

Holed the garum?" Ronnicus asked in disbelief. "KP, that's like- like- like holding something really important!" he said lamely. "You CANNOT have any kind of food without garum!" His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped a few octaves as a disturbing cast came over his face. "It's... unnatural."

"Stop being such a drama Caesaria," (4) Kim scoffed as she paid for and took away their order. "Besides," she continued as they sat down at a nearby table, pointing at the two full bowls on Ronnicus's own slate, "_you_ have enough garum for the two of us."

"But- but-"

"Come on, Ron, you know all that garum can't be good for you."

"No I don't! And I won't know until I try- oh, _oh_, you are not giving me that look. Stop giving me that look!" Ronnicus said, turning away and shielding his eyes against Kiminax's pout. "Rufus, don't pay any attention to her!"

But it was too late, and the molerat looked up at Ronnicus, a pleading look in its eyes.

"Et tu, Rufus?" Ronnicus sighed, but it was hopeless, and he placed a bowl of garum on Kiminax's half of the table, the sights and sounds of the Voro Carthago passing around them.(5)

Tell the truth, Kiminax felt a bit like sighing herself. It had been a week since the feast at Dracus's villa, and while she despised the trappings of Roman nobility, here among the people she couldn't help but feel like she was… well… she was…

Home.

She knew it was wrong to feel this way; these people were Romans! It was their kind who took her away from her village, took here from everything she knew. It was the Roman's hand that pulled her to this strange place, where the naked sun blazed all day and didn't have the decency to hide its nakedness behind the clouds nine days out of ten, like it did back in Britannia.

And yet…

From the table next to her, Kiminax overheard a worried woman talking to her friend, wondering about her legionnaire husband; he had been away so long, and she was so close to giving birth, and she was so worried, and, and, and what if he didn't come back? How would the family survive then?

At another table, an indulgent father watched his children wolf down the food he had bought them, telling them to remember that he bought them this rare treat because they had been good kids. Squeals of delight came from the youngest child at the table. In front of him was a small wheeled wooden horse, untouched; as would be the case for most children, the little boy had found more fun playing with the Cenula Candidus box than with the toy inside.(6)

All around her, Kiminax saw scenes that would not have looked far out of place in her village; people going, coming back from, or at work, women arguing in the market, children in the streets, playing with sticks and hoops- nothing so unusual, so Kiminax thought. Oh, of course there were obvious differences, but if anything they only served to make the similarities stand out in contrast even more.

Like it or not, Kiminax realized-

"This place isn't so bad," she said quietly, popping a garlic piece into her mouth.

"Huh? You say something, Kim?"

"Uh, no, no!" Kiminax replied hastily. "Just, you know, thinking aloud, that's all."

"Oh, okay then," Ronnicus said, dunking another handful of garlic chips into his garum bowl. "Say, do I do that?"

"Think?" Rufus piped up. "Hmm…"

"Do you _want_ a garlic chip, or not?" Ronnicus asked sternly, but the naked molerat's reply was drowned out by a nearby commotion as people moved out of the way of a masked thief and the prefects chasing him.

At first, Kiminax wondered why none of the prefects had asked the nearby civilians for help, but then she saw the gleam of a metal blade in the hand that wasn't carrying the loot; the prefects had obviously not wanted anyone to risk getting hurt attempting ill-advised acts of heroism.

That being said, as far as Kim saw it, she wasn't in any risk, so she was perfectly justified in running out onto the streets and standing in the man's way.

"Out of the way, barbarian!" the masked man growled. Now that Kim could see it up close, she could see just how grotesque it was, shaped into an exaggerated laughing face. When the man spoke, it came out louder than Kim had expected, possibly due to its construction.

"You know what? I've just about had it up to here with being called that," Kiminax countered. "Now, put down the stuff you've stolen, and-"

"Nobody stops the Infamous Wolf!" the man shouted, swinging the bag of loot at Kiminax's head, a clumsy move which Kiminax easily ducked. "The Wolf never relents!"

All around her, people were backing off, heading away into nearby side streets and alleys, but not quickly enough for Kiminax's liking- or the thief's, for that matter. Considering how the thief was fighting, Kiminax knew she had to do something, and quickly, before his wild flailing hurt someone. And while she wasn't used to fighting in such cramped quarters, she knew enough to improvise.

"Sorry!" she yelled to the vendor whose wine jar she had just smashed over the thief's head, who unfortunately didn't seem all too fazed by the blow. All around her, Kiminax could see prefects pushing their way through the citizens, but unable to act; whether they were worried about hurting Kiminax or fleeing citizens, or whether they didn't really care about a single _damnatus_, Kiminax didn't really care.

He took another clumsy swing at Kiminax's head, narrowly missing her and another citizen, and Kiminax took this moment to charge him head on, tackling him and bringing him to the ground. "A-ha!" he wheezed. "Twenty years, and the ladies still throw themselves on The Wolf!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Kiminax scowled, not just with contempt, but also a surprising amount of worry. Now that she could take stock of her opponent properly, she could see from how thin the man was that he was either very, very ill, or very, very old.

As the prefects gathered around the two of them, Kiminax saw that she was right on both counts.

"You cannot hope to hold the Wolf forever!" the old man behind the mask said, after one of the prefects had taken the cumbersome headwear off him. "I shall return, see if I don't! AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

"Oh give it a rest, Farnus," the prefects' commander said in tired disgust as his men took the old man away. His expression turned kindly as he turned to Kiminax. "Are you okay, miss?"

"I'm fine, it's no big," Kiminax assured him. "I'm not too sure about that guy, though- what was he talking about? What wolf?"

"What wolf? WHAT WOLF?" Ronnicus asked incredulously from behind her. "Kim, that was Farnus the Worthy! He played The Infamous Wolf, you know, the archvillain from The Brave Baboon plays? What? Why is everyone quiet all of a sudden?"

And indeed, the whole market had gone quiet for a moment, after which people began shuffling away quickly. Some mothers gave Ronnicus the evil eye while motioning for their children to avert their gazes. Several girls in the crowd were either staring at Ronnicus and giggling nastily or blushing furiously as they walked away.

"Do I want to know?" Kiminax asked the prefect.

"No, you don't," the lawman said, rubbing his forehead in quiet exasperation. "Just that everyone on that play seems to have gone insane in one way or another. If you thought this guy was a few olives short of a grove, you should have seen the lead-"

"Romulus Australis?" Ronnicus said, starry-eyed. "He's the coolest actor ever!"

"For Jupiter's- the guy runs around in his Eagle Man costume beating up people who bump into old ladies!" the prefect countered.

As the argument between Ronnicus and the prefect went on, Kiminax felt someone tugging lightly at her. She turned around to see-

"Shiko?" she asked incredulously, seeing the Dacian standing in front of her, a full basket in hand.

"Small world, princess," Shiko grinned. "I'm starved, how about you?"

(scene change)

"Are you sure you can eat all that?" an incredulous Kiminax asked, seeing the food Shiko had piled on her tray.

"Kimmie, Kimmie, Kimmie," Shiko replied. "This kind of figure doesn't just happen, you know," she said, striking a pose and eliciting a few appreciative whistles from nearby tables, which died down when she gave the occupants A Look. "It needs maintenance," she continued, in the near deathly silence.

They were sitting in the restaurant where Kiminax and Ronnicus had been eating before they were interrupted; Ronnicus had left them earlier, still actively engaged in conversation with the prefect (a.k.a. losing the argument), and Kiminax didn't want to return to the gladiatorial school without him.

Besides, the Dacian was paying.

"Speaking of maintenance," Kiminax said, "I think the local prefect precincts could use a little of it themselves."

"They don't need maintenance; they maintain all of Rome," Shiko snorted, before giving Kiminax a grin. "I'm totally serious, by the way; the prefects don't just handle the law, but things like building maintenance, and fire prevention duties. Those guys you saw? I heard they'd just got back from putting out a fire on 23rd and Main when they got the call."

"23rd and Main… but that's like twenty blocks away! Wasn't there anyone closer?"

"There used to be thousands of prefects in the city, but ever since a certain general took over, there's just a hundred or so for all of Rome."

"I don't understand; I mean, Rome is a big city, shouldn't there be more of- wait," Kiminax said, as a horrifying thought took hold. "Dracus? General Dracus? _He's _in charge of the prefects?"

"Boxcarts," (7) Shiko grinned. "Fired half the forces in the precincts the day after he was put in charge, and cut the pay of the guys who were left. The smart or skilled ones jumped ship right after that, got jobs in the legions or foreign garrisons, and now the only prefects in the city are either in it because they ain't got nowhere to go, or they really want to do the right thing. In other words, the lazy and the stupid."

"You're certainly in a cynical mood, today."

"Cynical? No, just realistic," Shiko said nonchalantly. "It's easy; just look at things the way they are, not how they oughta be."

"Is that why you work for Dracus?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean... you seem like a nice person at heart, Shiko-"

"Hah!"

"I mean it," Kiminax said. "And the only reason I think you would stay with Dracus is because, well, you'd be better off that way."

Shiko looked up at Kim, her expression one of respect mixed with a little contempt. "Hey, you're pretty good at this, Princess, 'cept that _α_: I'm a slave-"

Now it was Kiminax's turn to snort. "I know how you fight. If you really wanted to be free, anything Dracus sends against you wouldn't have a chance," she said.

"Gee, thanks Princess," Shiko replied; she tried to scowl, but the smile beat it by a second. "Anyway, there's also _β_: the fact that I'm not a good person. Trust me on this."

"If you say so," Kiminax grinned.

"Besides," Shiko said, a little perturbed at how knowing Kiminax's smile seemed to be, "if I have it so good, then why don't you come join me at the villa? I'm sure that Dracus can be persuaded to have another slave, and you'd be living quite well- just look at me!"

"I… I can't," Kiminax said. "I'd like to, but I can't."

"Why not? If you're worried about keeping your job as a gladiator, then-"

"No, it's not that," Kiminax said. "It's just that I don't think I'd be able to fit in, you know?"

"…Yeah, you're right," Shiko said after a moment's thought, and the two of them were a little surprised; was that a note of reluctance in Shiko's voice?

"And the other thing is… I think I can actually do more good out here."

"Yeah, and how'd you want to do that?" Shiko asked.

"Well, since Nero hasn't got any gladiatorial stuff planned for now, the gladiators have a lot of free time; maybe I can come over to the city if things are not too busy and see if, um, I can… help out?" Kiminax said, her face reddening as she realized just how silly her idea sounded, now that she'd said it out loud.

Evidently Shiko thought so too, judging by how high her eyebrow rose. "Maybe it is true; maybe insanity is contagious."

She held up her hands as Kiminax began to protest. "Hey, hey, don't get me wrong, what you want to be Eagle Man in your spare time, that's your business," she said, enjoying the sight of Kiminax blushing deeper. "What I want to know is… why?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, the people you'll be protecting are Romans, the same people who took you and your family away from their homes, and brought you here to fight for their entertainment," Shiko said. Her eyes had narrowed, and her voice had grown quiet.

"That's true," Kiminax said, equally quiet, but where Shiko's voice bore an undertone of steel, there was only quiet realization in Kiminax's. "But I look out in the streets, and I see that the Romans aren't so different from the rest of us. I could have been captured and enslaved by another Britannian tribe instead of the Romans, and at least the Romans saw fit to let my family live- oh, wait, Shiko, I'm so sorry-"

"You were right," Shiko said as she got up. "You wouldn't have fit in."

As she got up to walk, she paused for a moment and turned to Kiminax. "I don't really mind that my family's gone," she said quietly, her eyes cast downwards. "Things happen in battle, and if it was the will of the gods… well, there's nothing I could do about it."

Then she looked up at Kiminax, and the Britannian saw that the Dacian's eyes were more like emeralds than ever; green, beautiful- and hard. "But if you truly believe that Romans are like any of us… that they are worth protecting because they're no different from us…"

She sighed. "Trust me, Kiminax, they aren't. Remember Agrippina? Yeah, I thought you did. Let's see you believe that Romans are like us after that." She looked down at her plate of half eaten food. "You can have that," she said flatly. "I'm not hungry anymore."

And with that, Shiko walked out of the restaurant, leaving a distressed Kiminax in her wake.

Author's Notes:

_First of all, my apologies for this chapter being so talky. Believe me, I wanted action as much as the next man._

_(1) Alexandria was still nominally a non-Roman province at this time, with Rome officially taking over in 80 AD, but Roman influence was already entrenched at the time._

_(2) Recognize Mark the Evangelist? Historically, he came to Alexandria in 60 AD and stayed for seven years before he was martyred by an angry mob._

_(3) Garum is a form of fish-based sauce, very common in Roman food. I haven't tried it myself, but I hear it's available in certain stores. I hear Thai fish sauce is very similar to it as well._

_(4) I'm not sure of the Latin term for an Empress; halp?_

_(5) Romans weren't all about decadent feasts; fast food was very common among the Roman people. Besides, I needed a fast food franchise inspired by the food of swarthy foreigners from the south who were defeated by the superpower of the day._

_Oh, and yes, Voro Carthago was the best I could do. Stop looking at me like that._

_(6) Cenula Candidus Happy Meal. True, 'candidus', when used in the sense of 'happiness' refers to personal happiness, not a meal, but I will not allow trivialities like linguistic accuracy prevent me from making bad puns, damn it!_

_I'm not too sure about Cenula either, but there you go._

_(7) As far as I know, Bingo or any of its variants hadn't been invented yet. Dice, however, were popular gambling instruments._


End file.
